


rosemary for remembrance

by fictionalinfinity



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Morgana lives, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalinfinity/pseuds/fictionalinfinity
Summary: After the Battle of Camlann and Arthur's death, Morgana escapes with her life while Merlin returns to a changed Camelot. Working alongside Gwen, the ban on magic is officially lifted and Merlin is made court sorcerer. However, not everyone is happy.Merlin is haunted by his failure to kill Morgana. After the citizens of Camelot turn on Merlin and refuse to accept his magic, he decides it's time to stop Morgana once and for all. Along the way, however, Merlin realizes there may be more to Morgana than there seems. Captured by witch hunters, they are forced to rely on each other for survival, and only together can they unlock the secrets of Arthur's death, and better yet, how to bring him back.
Relationships: Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59
Collections: After Camlann Big Bang





	1. Prologue

When Morgana le Fay was ten years old, her life ended. Then, a new one rose from the ashes, much darker and colder than the one before had been. She hated it. 

Morgana had always been considered a fierce young girl, being regarded so by her father most of all. Gorlois often claimed she inherited her challenging spirit from him, and that one day she would change the world with it. Her father had always been proud of Morgana, even allowing her to attend to his armour and learn swordplay. While most young girls her age were sequestered away, taught how to take care of a household and a husband, Morgana was kindling in herself an unquenchable fire of bravery and desire for righteousness. 

Vivienne, her mother, doted on Morgana. She’d often come to her chambers in the evenings, braiding her hair as she told stories of brave little girls, distant lands, and though it was forbidden to ever speak of, she spoke of  _ magic. _ It was their little secret, her mother always told her. Morgana guarded it closely. Her mother taught her never to lose sight of what was important and to never stand for injustice. Morgana took those lessons to heart, never wavering in them. 

Morgana had been content. Well and truly happy. Then, one morning, she’d woken up motherless. 

She’d cried for days, and she would never forget the way her mother’s corpse had looked, raised on a dais and dressed in her finest. It was a pale imitation of the woman she’d been. Her skin was sickeningly grey, the rouge painted on her cheeks only making it look worse. Vivienne’s eyes had sunken in, and Morgana couldn’t help but think of the way her eyes had glistened with joy so many times before. They would never shine like that again. 

Then, her father had been called to fight. Morgana was gutted, desperate to keep her father by her side. She’d clung to his arm as he tried to go, unwilling to let him leave from her chambers. 

“Father, please, I can’t lose you too!” Morgana had cried, tears streaming down her cheeks in a torrent. Her father had heaved a great sigh and finally stopped attempting to pry off her grip. He turned to her then and spoke. 

“My little star, you won’t lose me. I promise,” he smiled, petting down her hair and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too, Father,” Morgana replied weakly, trying to wipe away her tears. She watched him walk away, and then from her windowsill, she watched him leave home for the last time. 

When Gorlois died, Morgana had no tears left to cry. She’d felt absolutely hollow, unable to produce any emotion besides the emptiness that gnawed at her from the inside out. Despite many protests, she spent the night at the side of her father’s corpse, clinging on to each and every moment pretending he wasn’t dead, merely asleep. 

She wondered who would take care of her now. Who would braid her hair, tell her stories, teach her to fight with a sword, let her help with armour? Who would call her their little star? Who would hug her close? Who would love her?

Then came the news that Camelot and her king would be taking Morgana in as their ward. Morgana revolted, furious to learn that the man who had sent her father away would dare presume to take his place. She’d kicked, screamed, and ripped curtains and tapestries off the walls in an attempt to stay, but it was all in vain. Eventually, they’d forced her into the carriage and left no room to argue. 

They’d travelled for hours and hours and hours. Morgana eventually lost track. It poured hard outside, as it had been doing for most of the season. She wondered if the weather was mocking her, or if, as her mother had always said, it was sympathising with her. Morgana dearly hoped it was the latter. 

When they arrived in the courtyard of the castle, King Uther and his son were there to greet her. She stepped out of her carriage warily, clutching her cloak around her shoulders tightly, and looked up. 

Uther’s gaze softened as it landed on her, his eyes almost twinkling. It made Morgana sick. She wanted to get back in the carriage at the sight of it, demanding they take her home, but she knew she couldn’t.

Morgana moved her eyes away from Uther as quickly as possible, choosing instead to focus on the son. He was a few years younger than her. He must have been seven summers old at most. His hair was a vibrant blonde, reminding her of her mother Vivienne. When he smiled at her, his front tooth was missing. Despite the rain, he seemed happy to be there. 

Morgana did not smile back. She did not have to, nor did she want to. Rather, she hefted up her skirts, now heavy with water from the rain, and climbed the stairs. She walked right past Uther and his son, not sparing them another glance. There were cries of shock and outrage at the blatant disrespect behind her, but she did not turn around. After all, Gorlois had always said she had a challenging, fiery spirit. The only thing she could do for him now, with him being gone, was prove him right. 

After fleeing to the inside of the castle, she found herself a spot to hide. Somehow she’d managed to stumble upon the library, and now she sat tucked behind a bookshelf, skimming some novel from France that she’d picked up off the shelf. 

That was how they’d eventually found her. Morgana was forced to put the book away and was personally escorted to her new chambers by Uther. She’d grumbled all the way, making her dislike of him very clear. He’d merely sighed, running a hand down his face in a tired gesture. 

She’d been confined to her chambers until dinner that evening, so Morgana decided to sit in the windowsill until that hour came. The rain splashed against the panes rhythmically, nearly lulling her to sleep until there came a knock on her door. 

Morgana was set on ignoring it until a tiny voice spoke from the other side. “Hullo? ‘Gana?” 

Curiosity piqued, Morgana opened the door slightly, just enough so she could see him and likewise.

“What do you want?” She asked gruffly, not eager to talk to him but willing to cater to him for a few minutes, if just because he was a mere child who couldn’t help himself. 

He looked almost owlish, eyes wide as he gazed up at her. “I’m… I’m Arthur,” he stuttered nervously. 

“And?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, I… I thought you might be sad. Because your mummy and daddy died, you know? And, and… I know I still have Father, but I don’t have a mummy either, and that makes me sad,” Arthur reasoned, and Morgana felt a little bad for the child. He was clearly trying hard.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Arthur. If that’s all,” Morgana said, beginning to close the door, but he stuck his foot inside before she could. 

“Wait!” Arthur cried. “D-Do you like swords? Because they usually cheer me up, and I thought they might cheer you up too,” he explained, showing her a pair of wooden toy swords he had brought with him. Morgana’s eyes widened, surprised she hadn’t noticed them before. “Do you wanna play?” Arthur asked, a little braver this time. Morgana smiled weakly.

“Sure, I’ll play,” she said, opening the door a little wider to let him enter. 

Perhaps Camelot wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

\- 

It was as Morgana stared down upon Arthur’s body that this memory flashed across her mind. She couldn’t help but think of the tentative yet kind and bright boy standing in her doorway, extending the offer of a sword fight and friendship at the same time. The boy who’d been so kind to her when no one else had ever tried. 

What had happened to them? Did that little boy from so long ago deserve what this had come to? Had either of them?

Arthur’s skin was the greyest she’d ever seen it. His hair lacked the golden lustre from all those years ago. The worst thing, however, was the eyes. The hopeless eyes. 

Morgana stood there for a moment, trapped in hesitation. Arthur released a laboured breath as he looked up. Their eyes met.

_ Their eyes met.  _

  
  
Terror seized her with a vice-like grip, and her breath caught in her throat. Morgana could barely stand to look at him for a moment longer. And so, with a fervour she hadn’t felt in a long time, she fled.


	2. One

It had been a month. 

A whole month without  _ him.  _

Merlin cursed fate wholeheartedly. He cursed the day that Arthur had been taken from him. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t been taken instead. 

Most importantly, he cursed the fact that Morgana still lived. 

Merlin had the chance to kill her that day. He remembered quite well how he could have followed the witch and avenged his king or stayed with Arthur and tried to save him. 

He’d chosen the latter, of course. Arthur had been living on borrowed time when he’d spotted her. When Morgana had run away like the coward she was. Merlin couldn’t risk losing him, though. Not when there was still a chance. So he’d chosen to journey on with Arthur, clinging to hope. 

Merlin regretted that choice. 

Either path had led to Arthur’s death in the end. At least if Merlin had followed Morgana, Arthur would be both dead  _ and _ avenged, and wouldn’t that have been better?

Better than this hate that now consumed him, at least. Every waking thought of his began with  _ Arthur _ , quickly followed by  _ Morgana. _ He’d made it his personal mission to find that woman and make her pay for taking all that was dear from him. 

Merlin would  _ avenge _ Arthur. 

No matter the cost. 

This was what occupied him as Merlin stared out of the window inside an alcove. Rain splattered across the glass as he stood there silently. The sky rumbled, similar to the way it had been doing for weeks. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure if he was the cause of the downpour or not, but the amount of rain since Arthur’s death certainly hadn’t been natural. 

He hoped that if he  _ was _ the source of the weather that at least Morgana was soaking wet in a hovel somewhere. That made him smile a little.

“Merlin?” Gwen’s soft voice spoke up from behind him. He turned around slowly to face her, the smile remaining on his face. She was one of the few who could put one there these days. 

“You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you,” Gwen stated, rather than questioned. Merlin paused a moment before nodding. Gwen sighed. “I miss him too.”

“I keep waiting for him,” Merlin spoke, his voice hoarse from disuse. “But… he never does come.”

“We’ll see him again one day. We must have hope,” Gwen encouraged, grabbing hold of his hand tightly. 

“Yes, milady,” Merlin replied distantly, turning back to face the window and the rain. Gwen heaved a disappointed sigh that did not quite catch his attention before departing alone. 

He must have stood there for hours before someone drew him from his stupor. A hand coming to rest on his shoulder was what finally did it. With a small flinch, Merlin turned to face who had wanted his attention. 

Gaius. 

Gaius looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than he’d ever seen before Arthur’s death. His eyes were weary and sad. Merlin offered him a small nod of acknowledgement. 

“You really must come to bed, Merlin. Tomorrow’s a big day for you. We can’t have you falling asleep in the middle of the ceremony,” Gaius teased, but the attempt at humour didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Ah, the ceremony. Right. 

Merlin was to be ennobled for his service to the king and heroic use of magic over the last eight years. He didn’t quite think he deserved it, but Gwen had insisted. It had always been hard to say no to Gwen, but it was almost impossible now, so he had agreed. 

“I’ll be right there,” Merlin answered softly. Gaius nodded and left without another word. Merlin cast one last glance at the window. It had gone dark by then, he was surprised to realize. He had barely even noticed the sun go down. 

Something flickered in the torchlight behind him. Merlin glanced up to check it’s reflection before freezing in absolute terror. 

Arthur’s ghostly reflection stared back at him from over his shoulder. His eyes had sunken in and rotten flesh peeled from his face. His hair, which stuck out in clumps, and skin were grey. The armour hung from his frame loosely. It was a hollow and crude imitation of the man he’d once been. 

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, expressionless, as a cold chill swept across the back of Merlin’s neck. 

In a blink, he was gone. 

Shaken to the core, Merlin fled the scene rather quickly. Although he’d made it to the safety of Gaius’ chambers in record time it had still taken too long. 

As the door shut behind him, Merlin released a shaky breath, resting his head on the frame. 

He vowed to never look into a reflection again. 

-

The night passed slowly as Merlin laid in bed, wide awake. He couldn’t shake the image of Arthur no matter how hard he tried. He did not want to remember his precious king in that way. Rather, he hoped to one day see Morgana in such a state. Wouldn’t that be the day.

Eventually, the sun rose above the skyline and it was time for Merlin to rise. He had a fleeting hope that the bags under his eyes weren’t too visible during the ceremony, but his luck was never that good. 

Merlin dressed quickly in the new outfit that Gwen had bought him for the occasion. He marvelled at it only for a moment, just to acknowledge that he’d never worn such finery before. Merlin imagined he would have plenty of time to get used to it in the days to come. 

In fact, he was being awarded both a brand new wardrobe and new chambers. Merlin had been too stupefied by the ennoblement to deny them anyhow. At least the new chambers wouldn’t bring any memories of Arthur with it. He couldn’t stand seeing Arthur in every room, in the face of every blonde-haired blue-eyed knight he passed. Maybe a fresh start would be better. 

He would miss Gaius terribly, though. 

“Merlin!” Gaius called from down the stairs. Merlin jolted out of his musings to give a response and finished buttoning his coat, walking down to Gaius’ chambers. 

Gaius waited for him below with a bowl of steaming porridge and a tired yet kind smile. Merlin managed a smile up for Gaius in return, but the gesture didn’t feel very genuine. 

Merlin ate quickly and held a jumbled conversation with Gaius in the meantime, talking about their opinions on lifting the ban on magic. 

He should’ve been overjoyed, but without Arthur by his side, the accomplishment felt hollow. Merlin imagined that that is what all life would feel like from that moment forward.

Hollow and lacking. 

Gaius must have noted Merlin’s disinterest in the conversation. He gave him a tense smile and offered to clear the bowl away. 

“It’s… it’s alright, Gaius. I can do it,” Merlin assured, feeling guilty that he’d jilted the poor old man out of his happiness. “This is as big a day for you as it is for me. We’re both being freed,” he added on, recognizing the truth in that. It’s not that he begrudged Gaius his excitement and elation, but he wished someone understood him. 

Gwaine would’ve, but Morgana had gone and killed him too. 

With that sour thought, Merlin cleared up the remains of his breakfast and straightened his cloak before readying to leave. A glance at the sun’s position in the sky sparked his fervour. He’d have to run, or he was going to be late. 

“Bye, Gaius. I’ll see you in the throne room!” He called after him, running from the room and down the physician’s tower. As he dashed through one of the open corridors, he could see crows gathering down in the square below. While some spectators cheered, others jeered and shouted awful insults. Merlin winced, but didn’t have time to pay attention to it. 

“Merlin!” The queen called, ushering him closer with her hands. “Oh, I thought I might have to send someone to fetch you! You always do find a way of arriving just when you’re needed,” Gwen smiled. “You look so handsome!”

“Thank you,” Merlin replied, blushing. “You look beautiful as ever, Gwen.”

“You’re too kind, Merlin,” Gwen blushed in return. She turned to her side and opened her mouth as if to say something, but when she found no one there she quickly shut it. 

Merlin surmised who she’d been about to try and speak to easily enough. He’d caught himself at it a few times as well. 

Gwen looked down with glistening eyes for a moment before composing herself and clearing her throat. “Shall we?” She asked. 

Merlin nodded, offering her his arm, and then they were off. 

-

The ceremony was quick and painless, as simple as many of the other knightings he’d seen before. It passed by in almost a haze. Merlin just couldn’t stop thinking about how desperately he wished that Arthur was there the whole time. 

When he turned to face the audience afterwards, Merlin received the muted applause with little notice. He pretended not to hear the whispers of rumours among the men. The whispers that Merlin had killed the king, bewitched the queen, that he was going to take the throne. He pretended he didn’t care.

There was no celebratory feast that followed. It was too soon after Arthur’s death to have any kind of celebration. Gwen had insisted that she honour Merlin in her own way, though. That evening, she invited him to dine with her in her chambers  _ (Arthur’s chambers, _ he thought). 

When he knocked on the door, he half expected Arthur’s voice to call for him to enter. Merlin couldn’t help but think about all the times he’d walked through those doors and seen Arthur look up from whatever he was doing to smile at him.

What he wouldn’t give to live that one more time. 

Gwen was eventually the one who called for him to enter, and when he did he found that the table was decked out in an elegant spread. Everything from rosemary ham to honey cakes lined the table. Jugs filled with mulled wine waited to be poured. Gwen waited behind a chair, smiling at him anxiously.

“Gwen, this looks wonderful,” he complimented, managing a small smile. 

“I wanted to give you everything Arthur never had the chance to,” Gwen gave a choked-up reply. Merlin felt his heart plummet. 

Suddenly he imagined it was Arthur awaiting him with a smile, ready to pull out a chair for Merlin and finally have that talk. The one where Merlin would tell him about all the times he’d saved the clotpole’s life. The one where Arthur would deny everything and say Merlin was too clumsy to do all those things. The one where they both knew the truth in their hearts. 

Gwen must have known what thoughts were going through his mind, for she approached him carefully and drew him into a gentle hug. 

“I’m sorry it’s me here, and not him, today. He should have been able to see this.”

Merlin froze and his breath caught in his throat.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, squeezing her tight. Merlin could feel her tears soaking his new coat, but he didn’t mind. “He loved you, Gwen,  _ so _ much. You’re not the one who needs forgiveness for surviving,  _ I _ do.”

Gwen sniffed and smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, but if I don’t need forgiveness for surviving, then neither do you. It was… It was neither of our faults, Merlin. We’ve just been left to pick up the pieces, that’s all.”

It was Merlin’s turn to begin crying. He couldn’t stop himself. 

“You weren’t there, Gwen. I couldn’t save him. I’m supposed to be the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth, magic  _ itself, _ and I couldn’t save him!” He practically shouted, feeling the weight of his guilt about to crush him. “Why couldn’t I save him?” Merlin sobbed. 

“Hush now,” Gwen sighed, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his back. “You’ll find a way to live with it one day. We both will. We  _ have _ to.”

Merlin stood in the embrace for a few minutes, quietly sobbing until his tears finally petered out. Gwen didn’t let go for a second, letting herself be a comforting presence. 

“I’m sorry…” Merlin sighed, steadying himself. “I shouldn’t put this all on you. You’ve got so much weighing on you, what with the kingdom falling to you, and now you’re trying to tackle the ban on magic. We’re all so proud of you, you know. I hope you know that, even though I’m not the best at showing it these days,” he explained. 

“You’re right, it’s been… difficult, these past weeks, but now I’m not alone. I gave you the title of Court Warlock, but I’d also like to ask you to be my advisor if you’ll have me,” Gwen smiled softly. 

Merlin hesitated. He’d been Arthur’s advisor in all but title for so long, he didn’t know if he was ready to take on that role with someone else. It was a stark reminder that he’d failed his most important job. Merlin was meant to have advised and supported the Once and Future King, not his wife. 

But… she was Arthur’s  _ wife. _ Not only that, but she was also Merlin’s friend. Arthur would want Merlin to support her, nor did Merlin want to let her down. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you!” Gwen exclaimed in relief, giving him another quick hug. Merlin smiled a little, glad that he could at least do this one thing for his king. 

“Now, my dear  _ advisor, _ I feel we should speak now on lifting the ban on magic. Your ceremony this morning was an important step, of course,” Gwen began, leading them both to sit at the table and eat.

And so the evening truly began. Both of their moods were still quite muted, but it was nice to be around someone who understood some of his sorrow. They spoke of the logistics of it all, the difference between light and dark magic, how it was often the wielder and not the power that caused harm. Then, they spoke of how to sway the public. That was Merlin’s greatest fear. 

“There is already distress among the masses. It’s not going to be easy, Gwen,” Merlin warned. “Not to mention that Morgana still lives. I’ve heard some people believe I’m on her side!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, Merlin. The people love you! Even before you were a servant you were popular. I remember being star-struck when you stood up to Arthur on your first days here in Camelot. I wasn’t the only one,” Gwen argued, but Merlin knew better. He didn’t look down on her for her innocence and optimism, but he knew better. 

“Sure, Gwen,” Merlin replied, too tired to argue with her about it. 

Down below, Merlin could hear the sound of jeering voices. It was hard to make out any words, but he could tell an angry mob had just amassed beneath the Queen’s window. Gwen frowned at the noise and stood from the table, making her way over towards the window. 

Suddenly, a shiver ran over Merlin’s spine. His head snapped up to gaze at the window. There, in the glass… A shadowy figure…

_ Arthur. _

Merlin’s heart leapt into his throat as he looked once more on Arthur’s ghostly facade. They stared at each other for a moment before Arthur’s face slowly morphed into a scream. Merlin’s frame trembled and he worried his heart might just beat right out of his chest-

_ Crash! _

“Gwen!” Merlin shouted in horror as a slab of stone shattered the window, spraying shards of glass all over the Queen and the floor. Merlin rushed forward and pulled Gwen out of the way before any other projectiles could make their way into the room. 

“Magic scum!” A man jeered from down below. 

“Traitor!” Yet another voice called. 

“We don’t want your kind here!”

Gwen slid right out from his arms and to the floor, collapsing in a heap of tears and blood. Merlin, horrified, noticed the small cuts that littered her body. He knelt by her side immediately, placing his hands over her and letting his magic flow forth. 

Immediately, the cuts faded from her skin and her breathing became easier. Gwen sighed and sat up carefully, placing her head on his shoulder. 

“Oh, Merlin,” she began, “I’m so sorry. I never thought…” 

“It’s alright, Gwen,” Merlin sighed. “I’ve dealt with worse. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know if either of us will ever truly be alright,” Gwen replied. 

“Merlin,” she continued, suddenly sounding nervous. “I need to tell you something.”

Merlin frowned. “Yes?”

“It’s something I never got to tell Arthur. But I… I need someone to know. I can’t hide it for much longer.”

Merlin’s heart broke all over again. He wished Arthur could be here (and not  _ Merlin) _ to hear the words that came next. 

“Merlin, I’m with child.”


	3. Two

Merlin had taken to placing protective barriers on every window in the castle each morning. He refused to have a repeat of the night of his ceremony. It had been almost three weeks since the event, but he was still anxious every time he passed one of the damned things. It didn’t help that he kept seeing Arthur’s ghost in them too. 

He’d been eating less and less each day as well. He’d found poison in more than one meal brought up from the kitchens. The first time, he hadn’t thought to check it, and he’d been sick as a dog for days. Merlin hadn’t told anyone, though. Gwen had enough to worry about as it was, the last thing she needed was for him to whine about some angry servants downstairs. 

Currently, they were in the middle of a council meeting. Gwen was sitting in her usual seat, but the seat to her right ( _ Arthur’s _ seat) remained empty. Merlin himself was in the seat to the right of the king’s, an important symbol of his position, but it felt wrong that Arthur wasn’t beside him. He remembered the  _ first _ round table, back in the old castle. Merlin had sat at Arthur’s right hand then. He’d never imagined that it would be the one and only time. 

Neither of them had done anything with Arthur’s chair. Merlin didn’t think either of them could stomach the finality of it. He supposed that one day perhaps Gwen would take it over, or maybe they would remove it from the table entirely. Whatever was to become of it, no one was ready for it. 

“Do we have the latest reports from the...” Gwen began before suddenly bringing her hand up to her mouth. She swallowed before trying again. “From the… the granary...”

“Excuse me!” Gwen practically screamed, jumping up so quickly that her chair went crashing to the floor. With one hand clamped tightly over her mouth, she used her other hand to heft up her skirts and make a quick escape. 

Immediately the councilmen (excluding Leon and Percival, of course) turned to eye him suspiciously, searching for evidence that he’d somehow cursed the queen to act so strangely. Leon gave Merlin a nod, signalling that he would take care of things and that Merlin should go check on Gwen. 

Merlin, thankful for Leon’s support, gave him a nod in return. He remembered so many weeks ago when Leon had given him a similar nod after he returned from Avalon empty-handed. That had been a… painful day, but his friends had shown their support even then, despite his magic. 

He excused himself a moment later, running after Gwen. He winced at the way his fancy clothes chafed as he tried to move. Merlin missed his old clothes and the way they allowed him to run after Arthur. 

Gwen was a few feet away from the council chamber on the floor retching. Merlin knelt beside her, placing his hand on her back gently. He whispered a spell, allowing his magic to ease her sickness. 

“You’ll be okay, Gwen… It’ll pass, I promise,” he assured. Gwen nodded her head in reply, unable to speak. Eventually, her stomach calmed and she sat herself on the floor, trying to catch her breath. 

“It’s been happening for a few weeks. I’ve managed not to let it interrupt my day, until… until now, that is,” Gwen explained. Merlin nodded his head in understanding. 

“Well, I’ll make some potions for you to take that should help. My magic isn’t a cure-all, but it’ll help settle your stomach,” he offered. Gwen smiled weakly at him. 

“Thank you, Merlin. I’m grateful for anything at this point.”

At that moment, a set of patrolling guards rounded the corner. The pair of them froze at the sight of them, shocked to find their queen on the floor in a puddle of her own sick. 

“Your… Your majesty!” One of the guards exclaimed, clearly overcome. 

“The Queen is indisposed. I suggest you keep this to yourselves and find somewhere else to be,” Merlin told them coldly. 

Neither of them moved, stood stuck still in their shock. Merlin rolled his eyes. 

_ “Now!” _ Merlin roared. The guards turned on their heels immediately and fled from their presence. He huffed a breath of air, annoyed. 

“Merlin…” Gwen began, sounding disappointed. “They were only a little surprised,” she chided. 

Merlin frowned. “If we’re going to make sure Arthur’s kingdom survives, we can’t afford to let men who are supposed to  _ follow _ you gawk and stare at you. They need to  _ respect _ you. We can’t relax around them. Every move we make is one they can use against us if we let them,” he reasoned. 

Gwen opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out. Merlin sighed. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been harsh with you. Let’s go get you cleaned up, shall we?” He apologized, offering her a weary smile and a hand up. “I’ll use my magic to get rid of the mess so no one else has to know for now.”

“Thank you,” Gwen sighed, taking his proffered hand and rising a little unsteadily. 

“Of course,” Merlin replied quietly before allowing his magic to clean up both the mess on the floor and on her dress. “There, all better.”

“I suppose we should head back into the council meeting?” Gwen asked tiredly. 

“Leon’s already taken care of it. You could retire for the afternoon if you’d like?” He suggested. Gwen nodded, heading in the direction of her chambers in silence. Merlin moved to let her be, eager to retreat into his own seclusion. He’d found that as of late spending lots of time in company wore him out. And yes, he admitted it, he had to sit and wallow sometimes. 

“Aren’t you coming?” Gwen asked suddenly, forcing him to turn around. Her smile was worn out and her eyes were desperately lonely. Her hands rested softly atop her abdomen, protecting the child within. How could he say no to the only person who missed Arthur just as much as he did? 

“I’m right behind you.”

-

“Do you have any plans on when you’d like to announce that you’re expecting an heir?” Merlin asked, taking a sip of wine. 

“I have absolutely no idea,” Gwen laughed sourly. “Arthur would’ve known.”

Merlin winced at the mention of that name. It should’ve been Arthur having these conversations with Gwen, not him. It wasn’t Merlin’s place, but there was no one else left. She hadn’t even told Leon or Percival. 

“Perhaps you could go to Geoffrey, ask if there are any traditions in their court for this type of thing? He’d know. He was there when Ygraine and Uther made their own announcement,” Merlin suggested. Gwen’s expression became thoughtful, considering the option. 

“The truth is, I don’t know if it’s the actual announcement that scares me. It’s something else… something  _ worse.” _

Merlin sat up straight in his chair, setting the goblet of wine down. “Gwen?”

“You hear all these stories of women… Where something awful happens to the mother during the birth. Where women  _ die. _ And what if…” Gwen stopped, choked up by sudden tears. “What if the same happens to me? I don’t want my child,  _ Arthur’s _ only child to grow up an orphan. I worry about what will happen, if there is nothing standing between the child and the throne. It would be so easy for Morgana to make a last grab for power…”

Merlin swallowed, shocked by her words. He hadn’t allowed himself to have those thoughts, hadn’t even considered them, but for Gwen… it was Gwen’s reality. 

“Merlin, if I die… I’m going to officially appoint you as regent until the child comes of age.”

“No, Gwen, I’m not fit to rule! Surely Leon, or someone-”

“Merlin, you’re the  _ only _ one. Arthur would have stood with me on that,” Gwen replied, extending her hand so it laid atop his own. “Please. I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but I need to ask just this one more thing.”

Merlin sighed. “Gwen, you’re  _ not _ going to die! I… I won’t  _ let  _ you!”

“But-” Gwen began to protest, but Merlin cut her off. 

“No. Don’t even speak of that. You’re going to live.”

_ “Merlin!” _ Gwen snapped. Merlin froze, his mouth hanging ajar as he looked down on her and the fire kindled in her eyes.  _ “Promise me,” _ she forced out through grit teeth. 

Merlin’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he scrambled for words, before he settled on a simple nod. Gwen wilted with relief, burying her face in his chest as she finally began to cry. 

“Shhh,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re alright,” he soothed. Gwen nodded, but her tears did not subside for a while. Eventually, her breathing evened out and Merlin knew she had fallen asleep in his arms. With a sigh, he gently lifted her and brought her to the bed where she would be more comfortable. 

As she laid there, Merlin took the opportunity to get his first good look at her. The circles under her eyes were dark. Although they should’ve been especially rounded from her pregnancy, Gwen’s cheeks were scarily hollow. 

Further down, Merlin could see the beginnings of a swell on her abdomen, one which her corset likely wouldn’t conceal for much longer. Unconsciously, Gwen’s hand moved to rest atop of it. He wished Arthur could’ve been there to see it. 

Blinking away tears, Merlin fled from the room, vowing to protect Gwen whatever the cost. 

-

Merlin’s new chambers were cold, empty, lifeless, and exactly what he needed. He couldn’t stand being reminded of his failures at every turn, so this was the one change he actually appreciated. 

Gwen might as well have given him his own bloody tower. His rooms had belonged to the last court sorcerer and Uther had had them sealed off not long after Ygraine’s death. No one had dared venture into them for almost thirty years, and no one was clamouring for access now either. Besides the occasional servant, Merlin didn’t think he’d seen anyone else in that wing of the castle. 

It was certainly nice to be away from prying eyes. He was already getting enough stares to last a lifetime. They made him miss his life away from the prying eyes as a servant. No one ever batted an eye when he went past. 

Taking a seat at his table, Merlin summoned a book from the shelf with his magic. He watched as it lazily fluttered closer, landing with its face open. It was one of the many books on magic that had been locked away in the tower. Every night since moving in he’d taken to reading one of the volumes, finally getting the magical education he’d been denied his whole life. 

What was the point, though? Without Arthur, his magic was nothing. 

Despite this, Merlin continued to flip through the pages. He made notes in the margins on spells or creatures he’d already encountered. This volume, in particular, seemed focused on lands rich with magic, long forgotten since Uther’s purges. 

Turning the page, a detailed drawing of a rock formation caught his eye. For a moment Merlin thought it could be the Crystal Cave, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind he dismissed it. That comparison didn’t feel right. There was something… different about that cave. Something  _ sinister _ . 

Merlin’s eyes flitted to a description situated next to the drawing.  _ “Few who enter have ever returned from the Cave of Cadence. Those who have returned claim to have heard a calming voice call out to them, luring them into the cave. No one has ever escaped with a full recollection of what happened to them inside, and none have been known to recover.” _

Merlin frowned. Whatever this cave was, it was clearly very dangerous. What powers did it hold? How did it claim its victims? He continued reading. 

_ “There is only one memory that all of the victims share. They all remember that ‘death was the only escape.’ No one has ever been able to make sense of this statement.” _

Written below the vague and disturbing description was a warning. 

_ Avoid at all costs.  _

Blinking away sleep, Merlin decided that that was enough for one night. He gently closed the book, careful not to damage any of the yellowing pages. Standing from the table, he carried the book over to the shelf. 

Something outside startled him. Merlin cursed as he dropped the book, his eyes flashing gold as he froze it midair. The next time, he made sure the book slid into its rightful spot. 

With that settled, and he turned around and tried to identify what had startled him. Merlin winced as the noise started back up again. 

Then, he realised.

Someone was screaming. 

-

It wasn’t until Merlin slammed into one of the poor unsuspecting servants that he realised he was moving at all. His legs had automatically carried him from his lonesome tower to find the source of the terrible screaming. 

“Sorry,” Merlin apologized hastily, lending the serving girl a helping hand up. After a quick once-over to make sure he hadn’t harmed the girl, Merlin resumed his run. 

The screaming had finally stopped once Merlin reached the courtyard. A crowd of peasants had formed a little way over, but a line of guards on the night shift were holding them back. Merlin frowned. Who had screamed? No one seemed to be in any danger. 

Another circle of knights had formed in the middle of the courtyard. They all spoke quietly and tensely amongst themselves, their gazes never leaving whatever lay in the centre. 

“Merlin!” Leon called him from the circle tersely, beckoning him closer. The other knights squared their shoulders and eyed him warily. Percival offered him a grimace. 

“What happened?” Merlin questioned, pushing himself through the crowd. Before anyone had the chance to reply, his breath caught in his throat as he finally saw what had everyone so panicked. 

What would’ve been a young woman’s body lay before him. Merlin swallowed back vile as he took in the sight of muscle and bone. All of the woman’s flesh was gone, stolen from her. A basket was still clutched in her hand, but its contents were strewn about. One of the objects was a small child’s doll. His heart plummeted. 

“The poor woman…” he whispered so quietly he almost couldn’t hear himself. Clearing his throat, Merlin turned to face Leon, speaking louder. “How did this happen?”

“We haven’t a clue,” Leon answered, looking himself a little pale. “Young Sir George here saw it, but he hasn’t even been able to manage a coherent sentence,” he continued, gesturing to an unfamiliar knight who stood gaping a few steps away. He must’ve been one of Leon’s new recruits. The knight hadn’t been at Camlann and Merlin certainly didn’t recognize him. 

Merlin nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.”

Merlin cautiously approached the man. His eyes were wide as saucers and his mouth kept opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. “Sir George? Can you tell me what happened?” He tried to ask gently. 

Sir George’s mouth opened and closed a few more times before he shook his head no. Merlin sighed. Arthur had always been so much better at this than he was. Why couldn’t his king be here instead?

“It’s alright, George. You can talk to me,” Merlin reassured. “You’re safe now, I promise.”

A few feet away, Merlin heard some of the older knights grumble at that. A few even scowled at him. Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Th-there was a… a beast,” Sir George finally spluttered out and Merlin refocused his attention on the man. “It… It…” 

“It’s alright, keep going,” he coaxed. Sir George swallowed before continuing. 

“It was… dark, and it moved like smoke! I could practically see through it! And then… It flew into her mouth, like she’d inhaled it or something. She was… screaming and seizing, and then she wasn’t. She was dead. And then that  _ thing _ crawled its way out of her, wearing her skin. It looked back at me… and… and it had no eyes. They were just… empty,” Sir George finally finished. The courtyard was deathly silent. 

Merlin felt like he was going to be sick. A magical creature walking around wearing people’s skin? If it found a way to conceal its eyes, it could easily pass as a normal man or woman and wreak havoc. 

“Merlin? Do you have any idea what could have caused such a thing? Any spells you know of?” Leon asked, coming to stand beside him once more. Merlin could tell by the way he walked that he was more frightened than he was letting on. 

Merlin was frightened too. Was this the work of Morgana? Had she finally come out of hiding to make a last grab for power? He should’ve taken care of her when he had that chance. Now she could be threatening  _ Arthur’s _ people once more. 

“I’m sorry, Leon. I… I don’t know. I have a feeling I know who caused this, though.”

Leon nodded, clearly disappointed but agreeing with the latter part of his statement. He put on a brave face as he turned back to the men and began rattling off orders to clear the courtyard and what to do with the body. Merlin hoped someone would claim it soon, but he felt sorry for whatever family that would come forth. 

It was a terrible thing to lose someone you loved. 

Merlin turned on his heel, committing himself to return to his tower and begin his research. He made it a few steps before someone gently tapped on his shoulder. 

Merlin jumped, looking over his shoulder to see Percival standing there. He froze for a moment before relaxing and offered the gentle giant a tired smile. “Are you alright, Percival?”

Percival was not a man of many words, so when he spoke it was usually about something important. It made him wonder what Percival’s thoughts on the attack were, but that was not where the knight took the conversation. 

Instead, he inquired after Gwen. 

Merlin reassured him that she was doing as well as she could be and that she appreciated his support. Percival smiled softly at that before continuing.

“Just… help her through this. She’s strong, but she still needs your help.”

Merlin dwelled on the statement long after he and Percival parted ways. Percival had said that Gwen needed Merlin’s help, not  _ their _ help. Why would she just need Merlin’s help? Surely Percival knew that Gwen would appreciate his help just as much? 

Whatever the case, Merlin had to eventually put the thought to rest. He had research to do. 

-

Merlin’s initial sweep over the magical volumes in his chambers proved useless. Nothing matched the description of a creature with a smoke-like body that wore its victims’ skin like a suit of armour. He’d never come across anything like it in all of his years at Camelot. He had to hope that Gaius knew something he didn’t.

By the time Merlin reached Gaius’ chambers, the sun had risen over the horizon outside. The light reflected beautifully against the white stones that made up the castle, so opposed to the vile darkness that had surrounded him not so long ago. 

Not bothering to knock, Merlin swung the door to Gaius’ chambers open and entered. Being back there reminded him that he hadn’t been to see Gaius in quite awhile. He would’ve felt guilty if he weren’t so tired. 

“Gaius?” Merlin called into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Ah, Merlin! Come here, my boy,” Gaius responded and Merlin bounded up the rest of the stairs. Just as he was about to give Gaius a proper greeting, he recoiled at the sight of the flesh-less body lying on the table. 

Merlin winced. “You couldn’t have given me some warning?”

“Nevermind that, Merlin. Tell me what you’ve learned,” Gaius ordered. Merlin cast his gaze at the body once more before beginning. He recounted all that Sir George had told him, watching as Gaius’ eyes widened at the description of the flesh-stealing beast and the empty eye sockets. 

Gaius sighed. “I think I remember reading something about that many years ago. I couldn’t get a straight answer from any of the knights when they brought the poor girl here so I didn’t know where to start. While I research, perhaps you should inform our queen of what’s happening?”

Merlin nodded silently and turned around to leave, but not before Gaius called him once more, halting his steps.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t seen you much lately, Merlin. Are you sure you’re alright?” Gaius asked quietly, his expression tense. Merlin recognized it easily. The old physician always got worried when Merlin got quiet. It used to be endearing, but now it felt burdensome. He didn’t want anyone worrying about him. 

“I’m fine, Gaius,” Merlin replied tensely, forcing a smile onto his face. “I’ll see you later,” he added before fleeing the room. 

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief after escaping Gaius’ worried glare, but the feeling didn’t last long. Now that he was out in the open, he found himself on the receiving end of more cold glares than ever before. Servants began to duck in fear when he went past while knights and noblemen alike turned their nose up at him. 

Merlin missed Arthur more than ever. 

While he didn’t quite understand the rise in numbers of glares sent his way, Merlin wasn’t terribly surprised. Nothing surprised him anymore. 

After a short stop at his chambers to pick up some of the potions he’d promised her, he made it to Gwen’s  _ (Arthur’s) _ chambers in just under a few minutes. Merlin had been eager to get away from the stares that plagued him, so he’d moved rather quickly. Steeling himself, he knocked on the door. 

“Gwen? Can I come in?”

After hearing a vague affirmative, Merlin slipped in through the door quietly. Looking around, he saw Gwen still hadn’t moved from her place atop the bed. She had seemingly gotten up after he’d left her last night to change into a nightgown and her hair looked thoroughly slept on. Merlin averted his eyes quickly. He hadn’t realised she’d still be in such a state of undress. 

“Um, I brought you the potions I mentioned the other day. The ones that help with the morning sickness, remember?” Merlin stuttered out. He didn’t know how to bring up the attack to Gwen. It looked like she’d only just woken up, so he would have to be the one to break the news. 

“Oh, Merlin, thank you!” Gwen smiled, her mood considerably brightened. She quickly slipped from the bed and threw on a robe before moving to approach him. He slipped the small bottle from his pocket and gently pressed it into her palm. 

Once she’d taken it, the effect was almost instantaneous. Gwen’s face regained its colour and she managed to hold herself up a little straighter. Now that she wasn’t weighed down by nausea, she eyed him strangely. “I know you didn’t come here just to drop that off. What’s wrong? You look worried.”

“You caught me,” Merlin grimaced. “You’re right. That’s not the only reason I came here. The truth is, there was an attack using magic last night.”

Gwen’s eyes widened and she gasped in shock. Merlin didn’t hesitate before retelling the story to her. He felt a little guilty when the green tinge returned to her skin as he described what was done to the poor girl’s body and what remained of it.

“Do you think Morgana is behind this?” Gwen asked quietly, her eyes distant as she remembered the gruesome end her husband met at the witch’s hands. 

“I don’t doubt it. She’s been quiet for too long, when she should’ve been gloating over her  _ victory,” _ Merlin spat. With Mordred dead and Morgana’s group of loyal druids long dispersed, he didn’t know who else would or even  _ could _ have summoned the beast. 

While the citizens of Camelot weren’t happy with the revoke of the ban on magic, druids and magical creatures alike had rejoiced at the news. Merlin didn’t imagine that any of them would attack Camelot so soon after it had finally started taking steps in the right direction. 

No, it had to be Morgana. Merlin’s desire for vengeance was filled with renewed vigour. He would stop at nothing to see that she got what she deserved. 

“Do you know how to stop it?” Gwen asked quietly. Merlin could sense her apprehension. He certainly understood. It wouldn’t do good to have a creature like that roaming around unchecked. 

Merlin shook his head regretfully. “No. Not yet, at least. Although, Gaius does have a lead. I think he should have a report for us by today’s council meeting. We should know soon enough. Don’t worry, Gwen, even if he doesn’t. I’ll figure something out,” He tried to smile for her, but it came up painful looking. He was exhausted. 

Leaving Gwen to dress, Merlin wandered over to the council chambers. The doors were still closed, obviously waiting for the queen before anyone took their seats. Some of the older councillors had formed a group a few feet away from the door. When they noticed his approach, their voices quieted to a whisper and they eyed him scathingly. 

Merlin elected to ignore them, choosing to stand beside Leon. The knight smiled in greeting.

“Merlin! How goes your search? Well, I hope,” Leon prodded gently. Percival approached from one of the connecting halls and planted himself beside them.

“No news on my end, I’m afraid. Gaius should know more,” Merlin replied. Leon nodded in understanding. “What about you? Has anyone come forward to claim the woman?”

“Yes,” Leon replied sadly. “She was a serving girl called Anna. Her husband reported her missing this morning, and he was able to identify the object’s she’d had on her at the time.”

Before either of them could say anything else on the matter, all of the voices quieted as Gwen made her appearance. Before long, they were seated around the table and Leon had given his own report. Then, it was Gaius’ turn. 

“There is no true name for the creature that did this, but it is commonly referred to as the Harbinger. It can only be summoned by the most powerful of men. They are given a task to fulfil, and they use the flesh of others to do it,” Gaius explained as Merlin’s eyes widened. 

“But who summoned it?” One of the councilmen asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Another one sneered. “Don’t think we don’t know what you get up to in that tower of yours, boy,” he continued, directing that comment at Merlin specifically. Merlin bit back a long-suffering sigh. When would these people ever learn?

“Of course Merlin didn’t summon it! He would never do such a thing!” Gwen rose from her seat suddenly, glaring at the man. He didn’t even have the good sense to look away. Instead, he met her gaze cooly. 

“You’d jump to his defence, wouldn’t you,” a third councilman grumbled. “The serving girl coming to the defence of her lover.”

Sirs Leon and Percival were out of their seats so quickly the chairs toppled over. Both had their hands on the hilts of their swords, ready to come to their queen’s defence. “Hold your tongue!” Leon snapped harshly. “That is the queen, Arthur’s  _ wife _ you speak of! And Arthur’s most loyal friend!”

Merlin averted his eyes. He hadn’t realised the rumours were that bad. He barely paid enough attention to eating his meals on time, let alone catching up on the court gossip. 

Looking back up, Merlin saw that Gwen’s eyes were blazing. “I need not defend myself to the likes of you. I  _ earned _ my place at this table, fighting at Arthur’s side. The same can hardly be said of many of you. One day, not very far from now, I will bear the Pendragon heir.” Merlin gasped in surprise. He had no idea she’d be revealing the news in such a way! “I can only hope they never have to work with men like you. You, along with anyone who shares your mind, are dismissed from this council!”

Reluctantly, the two men who had made snide comments stood, and after throwing one last look over their shoulders, left the council chamber. Everyone else wisely remained silent. 

“Now, where were we?” Gwen asked kindly, smoothing out her skirt as she took her seat once more. 

The conversation quickly returned to the topic of the Harbinger. Merlin asked Gaius if he knew how the creature could be defeated.

“It is a being of the air,” Gaius recalled. “Such creatures that rely so heavily on one element are usually defeated by another. The use of earth should be its undoing.”

That seemed easy enough in the end. Merlin had worked with something similar before, and he’d do it again. Unfortunately, he had no way of finding the Harbinger unless it revealed itself. Once the council was dismissed, Merlin returned to his tower to try and research some locator spells. 

Despite the stack of books in front of him, Merlin wasn’t having much luck again. Most spells only allowed him to locate inanimate objects or a person, but only if you had something that belonged to them. Unfortunately, the Harbinger was neither of those things. 

Could he perhaps try and uncover its purpose instead? That way he could predict where it would go to fulfil it. But what would Morgana want it to do specifically? There were so many possibilities.

“Sir? The queen asked that you be brought some food for the evening. May I enter?” A quiet voice called from the other side of the door after he heard some knocks. Merlin frowned. He hadn’t even realised it was that time yet. 

“Enter?” He returned, but it came out as more of a question than a command. It was odd for Gwen to be sending him food when they were meant to eat dinner together that evening. Perhaps something had come up and she had sent him food to make sure he ate?

The door opened quietly, and a young girl entered with her head bowed. In her hands was a tray littered with food. “Thank you. You can set it over there,” Merlin greeted, gesturing in the general direction of his table. 

The girl moved quietly, setting the tray down almost noiselessly. After a few more moments of silence, Merlin refocused his attention on the page.

“So pretty,” the girl murmured. Merlin spluttered, not having realised she still remained. 

“Wh-What?”

“Your eyes, I mean. It's such a shame I can’t take them too. They really are gorgeous,” she cooed, and he froze. Slowly, he looked up at her. 

Empty sockets stared back. 


	4. Three

Merlin barely had time to take in a horrified breath before the serving girl, or rather the Harbinger, was on him. In an instant, it had grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the table. Merlin attempted to pull the hands away, but its grip was superhuman. He couldn’t make the hands budge. 

“My, my,” the Harbinger cooed, its once smooth and gentle voice now as sharp as nails. Merlin was forced to stare up into the empty eye sockets and involuntarily shivered at the sight. “What stories this flesh holds! Soon… soon they’ll be mine!” It leaned in close, its putrid breath blowing hot against his skin. It made his eyes burn. 

Merlin opened his mouth to speak and use a spell, but he couldn’t make a sound around the death-grip on his throat. Grunting in annoyance, even as his vision swam from the lack of oxygen, Merlin resorted to base magic. He felt it flow through him as his eyes glowed gold and let it overwhelm the Harbinger. 

If the Harbinger felt the force of Merlin’s magic, it didn’t seem to show it. If anything, the creature seemed amused by his attempt. The edges of his vision darkened, and his oxygen-starved brain clumsily came to the conclusion that if he didn’t do something soon he was going to be dead. 

Merlin heard something begin to sizzle, and as he forced his eyes to focus he realised it was the skin of the poor woman that the Harbinger had stolen. The flesh began to melt and drip off of it, landing in clumps on him. Wherever the skin landed, it burned Merlin like acid.

The grip around his throat loosened and then altogether disappeared and Merlin gasped in air. His lungs burned and his throat ached, but he barely had time to contemplate it before he was inhaling the now formless smoke. 

Merlin had thought he had known what pain was. 

He was wrong. 

It felt like his lungs were being burned from the inside out, searing and sizzling and infinitely worse than what he’d been feeling just moments ago. What was worse though was the feeling of his very body tearing itself apart. Flesh tearing, muscles rippling and tensing, all the while he was fighting to keep himself together. 

Merlin gasped for air, pounding hard against his chest trying to force the Harbinger out. He tried to call on his magic to help him, but the gold in his eyes spluttered and died. He could feel the flesh at the tips of his fingers and toes beginning to peel away from the bone. Merlin was running out of time.

Think! Think! What was it Gaius had told him to do?

_Earth._ Merlin had to use the element of earth to defeat the Harbinger. 

Merlin was high up in the air, the topmost level of the tower where he resided. The Harbinger was in its element here, far away from the ground. He didn’t stand a chance of defeating it here. 

Dredging up the last of his strength, Merlin forced himself to stand. Ignoring the pain coursing through his very bones, he took one step and then another until he came to a stop in front of the windowsill. He glanced down warily, firming his resolve.

Merlin jumped. 

Wind roared against his ears as he began to plummet, drowning out any sound around him. For a moment he allowed himself to panic, realizing that if he didn’t pull this off he would die a horrible death, but he pushed those feelings away and focused on the danger at hand. 

He was getting awfully close to the ground. 

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Merlin shouted the word _“Eorðburg!”_ and prayed to any deity that it worked. He opened his eyes and caught one last glimpse of the night sky before the ground came up to meet _him_ and everything went black. 

-

Merlin groaned, feeling strangely heavy. Something clattered beside him and someone made a vaguely startled noise. “Merlin…? Can you… me? Mer…” He slipped back under. 

-

“Oh, Gaius… happened? Is… alright?” A feminine voice burst through the silence, going in and out. He tried to open his eyes, but the lids wouldn’t budge. “Oh, Merlin…” The voices faded away. 

-

“No telling when… should be… any day…” A voice was saying. “Needs rest…”

“G...Gaius?” He tried to say, but he coughed suddenly, alarmed by the crackling feeling in his lungs. 

“Shh, Merlin, don’t try to speak,” Gaius soothed, brushing the hair out of his face. Merlin barely had the energy to realize it was much longer than the last time he’d seen it. “Go back to sleep. You need your rest.”

Merlin tried to fight it, but after glancing up and noticing Gwen and the horrified look in her eyes, he reluctantly let his eyes close and was back asleep in a matter of minutes. 

-

The next time Merlin awoke, he could feel it in his bones that it was permanent that time. He blinked a few times at the light before attempting to sit up a bit. 

Searing pain shot up his arms and Merlin cried out in shock, quickly abandoning his attempt to sit up. As he lay on the table and attempted to recover from the shock, someone snorted awake a few feet away. 

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed, sounding both surprised and delighted. “You’re awake!”

“Ye… Yes,” Merlin forced out, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “What… What happened?”

Gaius hovered over him carefully, inspecting his face. Merlin gasped when Gaius suddenly used his fingers to pull Merlin’s eyelids apart and leant in even closer. He watched the old physician for a few moments, wondering what he was doing. 

“Hmm,” Gaius hummed. “There’s still some dilation in your pupils. Let me close the shutters, it’ll help with the headache.” He moved around quietly, pulling the shutters closed over the window. Only when the room was lit by candlelight rather than the bright sunlight did he realize he’d been squinting against it at all. Gaius was right, the headache lessened. 

“You gave us quite the fright, my boy,” Gaius chided, looking much more aged than the last time he’d seen him. The dark circles under his eyes were heavy.

“I… I did? What did I do?” Merlin asked quietly, confused. Why couldn’t he remember what had happened? What was wrong with him?

“You don’t remember?” Gaius asked. Merlin shook his head no, then winced when the room began to spin at the movement. “That must be the concussion. You hit your head rather hard. I guess I should start at the beginning. 

“The Harbinger confronted you, from what we could tell. We think, in your attempt to fight it, you fell from your window. You must’ve used quite the spell, because when you landed the earth practically swallowed you whole. You were buried alive, my boy. It took us quite a while to dig you out. You’re lucky you didn’t run out of oxygen. No one can quite explain that bit.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t remember any of what Gaius was saying, and that worried him. 

“When you hit the ground, you broke one of your arms and one of your legs on impact, as well as a few of your ribs, and gave yourself a severe concussion. There is also bruising on your throat from, we assume, the Harbinger. While you slept, I noticed you had difficulty breathing. I believe close contact with the smoke may have irritated your lungs. That should go away with time,” Gaius explained, and Merlin’s eyes widened. 

In all of his years at Camelot, Merlin had never been so extensively injured. Most of what he’d encountered were magical injuries, be it the dorocha or fomorrah, and they’d been easy enough fixes. From what Gaius was saying, Merlin didn’t think he’d be out of his bed for weeks. That had never happened before. 

“How long was I, uh… How long was I asleep?” Merlin finally asked. 

“About a week. Perfectly normal, considering the blow your head took. You’ll have to be on bed rest for about a month. I’ll reevaluate you then and see if I can move you to a crutch.”

Merlin groaned. A whole month? He already barely managed to avoid thinking about Arthur at all hours of the day. Now he had nothing _but_ time to think about the way Arthur’s corpse had looked while he’d set it adrift, how he’d failed to save his king, how-

He redirected his train of thought quickly. Merlin was too tired to deal with a panic attack, and he knew if he kept thinking that way it would surely lead to one. Instead, he focused on all the time he’d have to think about how he’d kill Morgana for what she’d done.

“Merlin?” Gaius’ concerned voice broke his concentration. Merlin sighed and looked back up at his old mentor. 

“I’m fine,” he sighed, and Gaius smirked knowingly. 

“Whatever you say, my boy,” Gaius teased. “Now, I was thinking it best if you were to stay with me for the duration of your bed-rest. That way I’ll be on hand should you need anything, and it’ll be easier for me to monitor your progress. You’ve still got that old cot if you’d like it,” Gaius smiled gently, and Merlin’s eyes widened with surprise. 

“You haven’t done anything with my room? But… don’t you need the space?”

Gaius’ eyes sparkled with fondness. “You’ll always have a home here, Merlin. _Always.”_

Merlin smiled softly. “Thank you, Gaius.”

Merlin began yawning not long after that, and Gaius told him he still needed his rest, so he reluctantly let himself be pulled back under. He prayed the nightmares would continue to stay away. 

-

They didn’t. Merlin found himself trapped in a vicious loop, watching Arthur die over and over again. He was frozen, unable to move or aid his king, helpless. He prayed for death. Finally, relief came, with problems of its own. 

Now awake, Merlin was suddenly aware of the effort it took to take a deep breath. When the dreams ended, he was in such a state of panic that he could barely catch his breath. It took Gwen’s soothing voice and reassuring caresses to calm him down.

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen sighed as he finally got his breathing under control. “How are you feeling now?”

“B-better,” Merlin croaked out. He tried to smile to reassure her, but his attempt was rather miserable. Gwen’s eyes pooled with tears. 

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” Gwen chided, holding his hands with a fierce grip. “I… I can’t lose you too!”

Merlin sighed in reply. “I’m sorry I scared you, Gwen. I didn’t mean to.” Gwen didn’t seem convinced. “Never mind about me,” he dismissed. “How are you? The baby?”

Gwen sniffed, letting go of Merlin’s hands to wipe away at her eyes. “We’re fine,” she reassured. “Just worried about you.”

“Well, don’t. You don’t need the extra stress right here. I hear that I’m going to be confined to the bed for quite a while. I don’t think I can get up to trouble from here, do you?” Merlin tried to tease. It worked. Gwen tried and failed to hide her snort and smiled at him fondly. 

“If you even _think_ about getting out of this bed, Merlin, you’ll have me to answer to!” 

Inwardly, Merlin groaned. The last thing he wanted was to be confined to a sickbed, but he didn’t want Gwen to worry about him, truly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady,” Merlin replied, forcing a groan. 

“Good!” Gwen decreed firmly. “I’ll see about getting your magical texts moved here so you have something to keep you occupied. I’ll make sure either myself, Leon, or Percival checks up on you every few hours. I don’t want you getting lonely.”

“Gwen,” Merlin huffed. “I’m sure you all have more important things to be doing than checking up on me! I’ll be fine, I promise.” And he would be. If Gwen followed through on her offer, he’d surely feel guilty. He didn’t like dragging others down with him. 

Gwen shook her head, and Merlin could see the sparks of annoyance in her eyes. The former-serving girl never liked it when he said things like that. “You did Camelot a great service by defeating that creature. Camelot looks after its own!”

“Camelot owes me _nothing,_ especially not after I failed to bring home her king,” Merlin rebuked. 

Rising quickly, Gwen’s expression turned furious. “Camelot owes you _everything!”_ She snapped. “If it were not for you, this kingdom would not even be standing! I’ve spoken with Gaius, I’ve heard the stories. _You_ turned the tide at Camlann. _You_ defeated the Great Dragon. _You_ saved Arthur more times than it's even possible to count! It’s thanks to you that I even married Arthur, and you were the one who gave me more time with him than either of us ever expected! So _yes,_ I’m going to be checking up on you, because I am your _friend_ and you deserve it! You don’t get to decide what Camelot does and does not owe you!”

Merlin was shocked into silence. He stared up at Gwen, wondering how much Gaius had told her and how long she’d been stewing on those thoughts. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so furious. 

_“Now,”_ Gwen started, steeling herself once more. “ _You_ are going to eat this broth without complaint while _I_ watch you and make sure you have every last drop,” she told him, daring him to challenge her. Gwen took a spoon and captured some of the broth, holding the utensil up to his mouth, waiting. 

When Merlin failed to comply, Gwen raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he reluctantly opened his mouth, allowing himself to be fed. Once he’d swallowed, she repeated the process. 

Neither of them said another word. 

-

The month Merlin spent resting in bed was absolute hell. He hated feeling useless, and all of the free time led his mind to dark places. He kept getting hung up on how things had ended with Arthur. Had Arthur really forgiven him for his magic in the end, or had he only come to that conclusion because he was dying and not thinking straight? Would Arthur have approved of the changes being made in Camelot, or would he be furious?

These were answers Merlin would never have. 

Gwen had made good on her promise to check up on him, sending either herself or the knights left from the Round Table. They had been very kind and considerate, eager to help in whatever way they could, and Merlin had tried to appreciate their company. It was always harder to be around them after Arthur's death. Percival and Leon had never truly been _his_ friends. Unlike Gwaine and Lancelot, they had been Arthur's friends first. Merlin had come along later, and they would never share quite the same connection. He didn’t hold it against them, but he knew they’d never be close in that way. On top of that, their presence constantly reminded him of Arthur. Reminders were always difficult. 

He had ended up staying with Gaius for the entire duration of his bed rest. Merlin didn’t even have much of a choice in the end. They had tried moving Merlin back to his tower once, but after a disastrous attempt where he'd fallen over when no one had been around to help and aggravated the break in his leg Gaius had made it very clear that he was to stay back in the physician's chambers with him. The topic was never brought up again. 

Merlin had also sped through the entire collection of magical volumes and texts that had been left to him in the court sorcerer's tower. The knowledge and information was vast, some new and some expanding on what he'd learned from Gaius already. He had also learned of lots of spells that could potentially help him defeat Morgana once he was finally able to resume his search. Merlin had spent many hours plotting the day, with nothing else to do. 

Throughout the healing process, Merlin had been secretly using his own magic to speed up the healing. Gaius had warned him against it, saying it would just sap his strength, but Merlin was willing to spend more of his days sleeping and trapped in nightmares if it meant he could get out of the bed quicker. In the end, it had worked. Gaius was surprised at how well he had healed and declared that there was no need for a crutch. Although, he had eyed him suspiciously. Merlin hoped he’d managed to look innocent enough, but in the end, he didn’t really care if he’d earned Gaius’ ire or not. It had gotten him where he needed it to. Merlin had been given permission to resume normal activities, considering he was extra cautious with the arm and leg in question. 

“As much as I love you, my boy, I’d rather I didn’t have to see you again quite so soon,” Gaius had said with a twinkle in his eye. 

That was how he found himself standing in Gwen's chambers for the first time in a month. No longer trapped in bed, Merlin was able to really see the Queen. He was able to notice how the bump concealing her child had grown. She was much closer to giving birth, with only three months left. He wondered how much planning was already underway for the fateful day.

Now, Merlin wanted permission to hunt down Morgana. Of course, he didn’t _need_ her permission, but he would like to have it. He wanted to take Morgana out of the equation before Gwen gave birth, so he could ensure the safety of Arthur's child and secure his throne once and for all. 

"Really?" Gwen asked, surprised. "You want to go out so soon? Merlin, you can't be serious!" She chided, looking pointedly at how he favoured one leg over the other. Merlin quickly corrected his stance, ignoring the small twinge of pain. 

"It's the best option we have, Gwen," Merlin replied. "I want to be here when you finally have the child, and I don't want the threat of Morgana looming over our heads. It's what we both deserve."

Gwen scowled at his choice of words. "You don't get to lecture me on what we both deserve. You made it quite clear that you have no understanding of the concept!"

"Don't do that," Merlin sighed, not wanting to rile her up. He’d always known she was capable of giving a good scolding (otherwise, how would she have put up with Arthur?) but he wasn’t in the mood for another one quite so soon. "Really, the sooner I do this, the better. I'll do it without your permission if I have to. Morgana’s latest attempt with the Harbinger may have been foiled, but it certainly won’t be the last time she tries anything. Unless I do something about it!” he warned. 

"Merlin," Gwen began, clearly disappointed in him. "Think about this! I don't want you re-injuring yourself! You don't remember what it was like when we found you that day, after the Harbinger,” she heaved a sigh, and Merlin could see she was fighting tears.

She was right, he didn’t know what had happened after he’d hit the ground that night. However, Merlin had regained his memory of the events leading up to it. The encounter with the Harbinger was _terrifying,_ and it wasn’t something he hoped to repeat. Why couldn’t Gwen understand that? If she let him go, they would never have to deal with another one of Morgana’s messes ever again. Merlin was confident he could beat her. 

“We thought you were _dead,_ Merlin! Someone heard you scream, and by the time anyone got to the scene you were already buried underground. I had to stand over the men and watch them just to make sure they didn't give up on you as they dug you out! It took them _hours,_ Merlin, _hours._ No one expected you to even be breathing by the time we got to you. Yet, you were. You looked so broken and lifeless when they finally got you out. I could’ve sworn we were too late, but then you opened your eyes. You started streaming, and you wouldn’t stop. You just _wouldn’t_ _stop!_

“Gaius had to knock you out, and then, for an entire week, I was forced to sit there and watch, wondering if my best friend was ever going to wake up again. You can't make me do that again, Merlin, please. Arthur wouldn’t want you to do this either." 

"That’s exactly my point, Gwen! Arthur _would_ want me to do this," Merlin snapped. "He wouldn't want Morgana to have access to his child! He'd want to see Camelot protected! This is the right thing to do. I don't know why you can't see that."

Gwen chewed her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. "The answer is no, Merlin. That's final."

"I've already told you that I don't need your permission. This was a courtesy, that's all. I'm going," he stated firmly. Merlin turned and attempted to leave, but Gwen stopped him.

"No!" She shouted. "I forbid it!"

Merlin gave her one last glance. "Goodbye, Gwen."

He forced himself not to look back. 

Regretting the angry words, Merlin wished he could go apologise to Gwen. She didn’t deserve his actions at a time like this. He knew if he actually apologised, however, he wouldn’t find the strength to leave. He had to do it now while he still had the willpower to do it. Merlin resolved to make it better once Morgana was out of their lives for good. Surely, Gwen would forgive him then. 

Merlin had already packed a small bag. There were some changes of clothes, all from his old wardrobe. He couldn't imagine traipsing around the woods in the fine clothing given to him for his new position in court. He wanted his favourite pair of boots and threadbare shirts and a comfortable leather jacket. Merlin also packed some herbs to help with the leftover pain in his arm and leg, as well as a water skin for drinking. He knew he'd be able to catch food while he was out there thanks to his magic, and he didn't think he'd need much else. 

Merlin would manage, just like he always did. He wouldn't come home until Camelot was safe.

No one put up much fuss when he made his final escape. Merlin didn't know if Gwen had ordered the guards to not let him leave the citadel or not, but no one seemed to recognize him, let alone try to stop him. It was amazing what a change of clothes and a month away from the eyes of society could do to a group of people.

Merlin wondered if they'd somehow forgotten all about him. Without the constant reminder of his presence, perhaps that was what had happened. 

He'd stopped at the stables before leaving, and no one seemed bothered at all when he'd taken a horse. Not just any horse, but the steed he'd always taken when hunting with Arthur. 

Merlin had been sad to see the horse locked away in the stables, separated from all of the other animals. It was like they'd thought his magic was contagious and the horse was diseased by mere association. They clearly didn't want the horse 'infecting' the other animals. He was lucky they hadn't thought to kill it already. 

It was relieving to be out of the city after being cooped up for so long. Merlin had missed the fresh air and sunlight. The forest was full of magic in a way that the castle wasn't. The castle was also full of reminders of the king he'd lost, whereas he had practically grown up in the woods of Ealdor. Woods didn't necessarily drudge up any terrible memories. 

"Well," Merlin sighed, stroking the horse as he sat atop it. "It's just you and me for a while. It'll be nice!" He tried to reassure. However, Merlin wasn't exactly sure if he was reassuring himself or the horse.

His first objective was to get out of the city, but after that, anything and everything was fair game. Merlin figured the best place to start his search was the last place he'd seen Morgana. That was close to the lake of Avalon, where he'd buried Arthur. 

Merlin wasn't very keen to revisit the location, but if he wanted a fighting chance of finding Morgana he had to start somewhere. He made a quick stop at the river, filling his water skin and letting his horse get a drink before resuming his journey.

The trip to Avalon would take many hours. Merlin was beginning to feel sore after riding on the horse for so long, but it was better than walking. He didn't imagine his leg would take that very well. Even without walking it was still twinging with pain, but he did his best to ignore it. 

When the sun fell, Merlin wanted to continue on. After all, he had his magic to light the way. The horse wouldn't allow it, however. The glowing ball of light seemed to make the poor animal skittish, and he refused to continue moving. 

Merlin grumbled and reluctantly got off the horse, securing it to a nearby tree. If the horse decided it wanted to rest for the night, Merlin might as well try and get some rest too. He gathered some twigs and leaves for a fire and whispered the words of magic, cautiously looking around before he caught himself. Who was he trying to hide from? Magic was legal. 

He didn't think he'd ever get used to not having to look over his shoulder, though. That wasn’t an instinct that just went away.

However, he did manage to use his magic to catch a rabbit for his dinner without glancing over his shoulder. It wasn't long before the meat was roasting over the open fire, skinned and ready to eat. 

It was very strange to not have the fire reflecting off of Arthur's scowling face as they bantered. It made his heart ache to not have the sight. Merlin sighed and finished off the last bite of the rabbit leg before closing his eyes, eager to banish the thoughts from his mind.

"Merlin."

Merlin's eyes snapped back open immediately. Sitting across from his was none other than Arthur himself. His mouth opened and closed for a few moments, but he found no words. He was in shock. Was this even real? What was happening?

"Come on, Merlin, don't tell me you're falling asleep already? We've only been out here for a few hours!" Arthur teased, smiling cockily at him.

"Wh... What?" Merlin finally stuttered out. Arthur rolled his eyes. 

"I know you heard me. Don’t tell me you’re deaf as well as dumb," Arthur replied. When Merlin failed to reply, Arthur frowned. "Come on, how are you feeling? How's your leg?" He continued, his voice taking on an edge of concern. 

Merlin blinked rapidly to see if the image of Arthur before him would fade, but it didn't. He continued to stare. Could it be? Was Arthur really there? It certainly felt real. Or maybe Merlin had finally died too. 

"Alright, now I'm really worried. Merlin, you're never this quiet. What's going on?" Arthur asked gently. Merlin could see the worry in his eyes.

"N-Nothing. I'm fine," Merlin replied quickly, still not believing his eyes. He didn’t whatever was happening to ever stop. He held his breath cautiously, but he couldn’t help the hope that bloomed within his chest. 

Arthur tsk-ed. "See, I just don't believe you! Come onnn, tell me!"

"Really!" Merlin insisted. "It's nothing! I'm just... surprised to see you, that's all," he finished rather lamely. 

Arthur grew even more worried. "Surprised to see me? We've been together all day," he frowned. "Did you hit your head again?"

Merlin's mouth opened and closed a few more times before he found a reply. Had he hit his head?. "M-maybe? I... I don't know."

Arthur sighed. "If you did hit your head, then you should get some rest. Gaius would kill me if he knew I made your concussion worse. Go on, I'll keep watch," he offered, a fondness is his tone, along with the veiled anxiety. 

"...thank you," Merlin said, still confused. He turned and laid down, resting his head on his balled-up jacket. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep as his king had ordered. 

He couldn't. After waiting a few more minutes, he opened his eyes again and looked up. Arthur was still there, watching him. Their eyes met for a moment, and Arthur smiled that teasing smile of his. Instantly, Merlin felt better. He allowed his eyes to close once more and fell asleep not long after.

-

The sound of birds singing was what woke him in the end. Merlin snorted awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before finally looking up at the campsite before him.

Arthur was gone. The campsite was empty. 

Merlin wasn't quite sure what he expected, but he should have known that what he’d seen last night wasn't real. He had wanted to believe it so badly, though. There'd been a stirring in his chest that made it feel real! Merlin had dared to hope, but he'd been wrong. 

Fighting back tears, Merlin stood and stomped on the dwindling flames of the campfire. He quickly ate one of the remaining rabbit legs before climbing atop the horse and setting off. He wanted to get far away from that place. 

Merlin tried to ignore the strange dream and put it out of his mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. However, the longer he spent doing that, the more convinced he became that there was something real about the encounter. There was something in Arthur’s eyes that couldn’t be faked or imagined. 

It took Merlin another few hours before he finally reached Avalon, but this time he did not stop to take any breaks. By the time he reached the lake, the midday sun was shining over it. 

Merlin scanned the area. He doubted Morgana was still there, but he tried to look for any clues she may have left behind when she fled. He circled the perimeter, going back to where he remembered spotting Morgana just before she'd run off. 

Merlin remembered how she'd looked then. She'd seemed almost terrified after looking at Arthur and the state he was in, and just when Merlin had stood up to challenge her, her swift feet had carried her away. He had looked down at Arthur then, but the measly shake of his head told him all he needed to know. Arthur did not want Merlin chasing after her. They were running out of time, and they needed to get to the lake. 

Those last few minutes with Arthur had been so very precious, but he couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if he'd gone with his gut instinct and followed Morgana anyway. She would almost certainly be dead alongside Arthur. That would have been a nice consolation prize, but alas, it had never happened.

Not seeing any footprints or snagged pieces of fabric in the vicinity, Merlin went back to the edge of the lake, right where he'd set Arthur adrift. Where he'd prepared his king one last time, never to see him again. 

The water rippled and Merlin sighed. "Arthur..." He began. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I think I'd like to talk anyway. It's been a while, hasn't it? Too long, really."

The water did not reply, just as he assumed would happen. He continued anyway. "Things have changed a lot back home. Gwen's done well for herself, you'd really be very proud of her. I know I am. She's… she’s having a child, you know? Ack, no you don't. Ugh. I'm sorry..."

Merlin clenched his jaw angrily for a moment before continuing. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure your child is safe. I won't fail this time. I'm finally going to do what I should've done so long ago and defeat Morgana. Your child will never have to worry for a thing, I promise you.”

"I... I hope you're happy, wherever it is you've gone. I hope that you're with your mother like you always wanted to be. I hope you’re finally getting to know her as you’ve always dreamed."

Merlin had a thought and suddenly found himself laughing a little. "Maybe Gwaine is there too. You had better hope that there's plenty of ale up there."

Then he became serious. "I know I should've told you about the magic sooner. I'm sorry I didn't. I was... afraid, but I should've trusted you. After all those years, you deserved to know.”

"I really do miss you, Arthur. We all do. Hopefully, I can still help make Camelot become the place you always dreamed it would be. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Once again he was left with no reply. He readied himself to leave, not willing to bear the silence any longer. "I don't think I can say any more other than this. I love you, Arthur. I really, truly, love you. I don't think I'm ever going to stop."

With it finally said, Merlin felt he could breathe easier again, even if it was only for a few fleeting moments. Turning away from the water, he meant to return to his horse but something moving above him caught his attention. 

"What... Aithusa?"


	5. Four

Merlin stood at the foot of the lake for a few moments, merely gaping up at the sight before him. He opened and closed his mouth as if he were trying to say something, but no words came to him. Merlin was simply dumbfounded. 

He had seen neither hide nor hair of the dragon since the battle of Camlann. The poor creature had seemed so weak the last time he’d seen her that Merlin had assumed she’d flown away to find someplace to die. It was the only thing that had made sense. 

Resentment bubbled up within him, almost against his will. Aithusa had played a cru cial role in Arthur’s death. She had forged the blade that had slain his king. However, Merlin knew he was partially to blame for the dragon’s multiple… lapses in judgement. He was her dragonlord. He should have been around to guide her and watch her grow, but he hadn’t been. Merlin could not fault her for finding someone who would. 

It was a few more moments of befuddled staring at the sky before Merlin’s voice finally started working again. He roared into the sky, calling on those instinctual words and ordering her to come to him. Merlin watched as Aithusa reluctantly turned in his direction and began to awkwardly fly towards him.

Aithusa’s wings beat out of rhythm and a few times it looked almost as if she might fall out of the sky but she did eventually make her way over to him. Merlin sighed, pitying the poor thing as he reached out a hand to rest on her snout. Aithusa mewled sadly. 

“Where have you been all this time?” Merlin whispered, although he knew better than to expect a response. Whatever it was that had infringed on Aithusa’s physical growth had also stunted her mentally. She could not understand the human words, only the dragon tongue. 

Aithusa settled somewhat uncomfortably onto her legs, and Merlin reluctantly followed her down, allowing her to rest her head on his lap. They sat together in silence for a few moments, Merlin stroking her gently and wishing he could ignore the pulsing sadness and resentment in the air. He could not blame Aithusa for what she had done. 

Morgana was to blame. 

Suddenly, Merlin jolted and remembered just who exactly Aithusa’s loyalty belonged to. Surely she would know where the witch had gone after the battle. “Aithusa?” He whispered sharply. The dragon perked at the sound of her name. “Where is Morgana?”

Aithusa reacted strongly to the sound of Morgana’s name, likely one of the few human words she could understand. She roared in distress and mourning, throwing her head into the sky. Merlin’s eyes widened. Was Morgana dead after all?

Merlin went on to ask Aithusa that exact question, only using the language of the dragon lords that time. Aithusa contemplated it for a few moments before shaking her head no. 

“Do you know where she is?!” Merlin followed up quickly, still using the dragon tongue. Reluctantly she nodded her head yes. 

Merlin was on his feet in an instant. “Take me to her!” He ordered her snappishly. Aithusa cowered, retreating a few steps in fear as she shook her head no in quick succession. Merlin felt his temper flare, furious that she would dare keep Morgana from him. He needed to avenge his king, why would she not understand that?!

“I don’t want to command you, Aithusa, but I will if I must. Take me to Morgana now,” Merlin growled lowly, trying to rein his temper in. Aithusa tried to roar pitifully in warning, but when Merlin took a step towards her she reluctantly hung her head and took to the sky. 

Merlin was quick to follow her, jumping onto his horse and spurring it into action, not taking his eyes off of the dragon for one second. Finally,  _ finally, _ he could accomplish what he’d failed to do for so long. His hesitation had cost him Arthur’s life, and he would not let it take another. Merlin would make sure that Arthur was avenged and that his child would never have a reason to fear. 

Aithusa travelled for what must have been miles, always glancing behind her to make sure he was following. Merlin trailed behind studiously, eager to discover where Morgana had been keeping herself hidden. He remembered the hovel she’d taken him to not so long ago and briefly wondered if that was where Aithusa was taking him but quickly realised that the path they were taking would be too out of the way for that. 

They did eventually stop, allowing both Aithusa and the horse a well-deserved break. The dragon’s crippled form meant she could not travel great lengths on end like Kilgharrah had been able to, but Merlin was well aware that his old companion flew the skies no longer. He had died not long after Arthur’s own passing. 

He reluctantly set up camp once more when he realised that Aithusa was more exhausted than she’d let on and would not be able to lead him any further. Merlin supposed it wasn’t very fair of him to expect so much of her, and he was aware that where Morgana was concerned lately his judgement was a bit clouded, but that didn’t mean he was exactly thrilled by it. 

Merlin caught a squirrel for Aithusa and finished the rest of the rabbit from the night previous. Together, the dragon and her lord sat in companionable silence next to the open fire. Merlin watched the flames dance, entranced, while the sun set behind him. As he absentmindedly stroked Aithusa’s head, he couldn’t help but ponder what the recent days had meant. 

While following through on his quest for Morgana, Merlin had become angry, and he’d taken it out on others along the way. When Arthur had died, he’d returned to Camelot overwhelmed by the emptiness and numbing silence. Merlin didn’t quite know if he could pinpoint when the draining solitude had morphed into the consuming fire of hate and anger, but it had most certainly happened. 

Anger could be a great motivator. If he had learned anything from Morgana, it would be that. It had gotten her where she’d wanted, leaving Camelot without a king and a throne ripe for the taking. Would it really be so bad if Merlin were to do the same, to let his anger guide and shape his actions and help him finish Morgana at long last? 

He didn’t know. 

One thing lingered with him, however. Once Morgana was dead, what would be left behind? A shell of a man, hands stained with blood, purposeless. Was that really what Arthur would have wanted him to become?

Merlin abruptly sat up, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he released a harsh sigh. He hated that he had to grapple with any of this at all. 

“Alright,  _ Mer _ lin. What’s got you bothered now? Are you missing  _ Gaius?” _

Merlin nearly fell over, caught off guard once more by the familiar voice and teasing lilt. Aithusa remained asleep a few feet away, so he had no other eyes to confirm if what he was seeing was real.

_ Really? Seeing Arthur two nights in a row? Maybe I really have gone mad… _

“My, you’re jumpy tonight,” Arthur laughed. Merlin could feel his heart shatter anew. He couldn’t decide if he was grateful or angry that his mind was concocting these visions of his departed friend. He supposed he could figure that out later though. 

“I’m so tired, Arthur…” Merlin whispered, watching as Arthur’s face fell. Arthur grimaced and spent a few moments looking like he was having an internal debate with himself before he squared his shoulders and stood. 

“If you breathe a word of this to  _ anyone…” _

Merlin scowled in confusion. “Huh…?” He mumbled. Before he could say anything else, Merlin’s questions were answered by Arthur sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

Merlin’s breath left him in a rush, leaving him to helplessly scramble for air. Arthur seemed to notice his distress, prompting him to tighten his hold and invite Merlin to rest his head. 

Not even taking a moment to question it, Merlin buried his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck and allowed himself to cry. 

It had been months since he had let himself truly feel the weight of his grief. It felt strange yet cathartic to be unloading all of it on the one he was mourning. As he hiccoughed through the tears, Arthur awkwardly patted his head, clearly unsure of himself. 

“Am I…” Merlin choked. “Am I doing the right thing?!”    
  


In his moments of doubt, Merlin had repeated truths to himself.  _ For Arthur. You’re doing it for Arthur. You’re doing it to protect all that Arthur has built. You’re doing it for Arthur’s family.  _ Could he really become a cold-blooded killer…  _ for Arthur? _

Merlin had certainly killed in Arthur’s name before, but this time felt different. In times past, he’d been in the heat of battle, sometimes quite literally fighting for Arthur’s life. This time, however, he was seeking it out. Merlin could not deny that Morgana deserved to pay for her actions, but could he really kill her like some assassin in the night?

Arthur did not immediately respond, but Merlin could hear the stirrings of words in his throat from the way his face was pressed against him. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re babbling on about, but it’s clear to me that it’s upset you. Do  _ you _ think you’re doing the right thing?”

Merlin sniffled uncomfortably. “I don’t… I don’t know. I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure,” he explained weakly. Arthur hummed in acknowledgement. 

“In all of the years I’ve known you, Merlin, you’ve made it clear to me that you were a good man. Hell, we only met because you were trying to stop me from throwing knives at some servant. You didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because you were going to stand up for what you knew was right no matter what.  _ That man _ would do the  _ right _ thing. Tell me, Merlin, would the man who stopped me all those years ago agree with what you are trying to do today?”

Merlin let the weight of those words wash over him. He had changed so much since that day when he met Arthur, and some of it he knew not for the better. He had made so many mistakes along the way and been forced to grow up.

Arthur, or whatever subconscious dream the man before him was, had posed a question. A question that Merlin knew the answer to no matter how much he wished he could ignore it. The truth was, if the Merlin who had walked into Camelot so many years ago could see the man that Merlin had become, he would be  _ so _ disappointed.

“...No, he wouldn’t,” Merlin finally spoke, acknowledging the truth out loud at last. 

“Then you have your answer,” Arthur returned. Merlin sighed, leaning deeper into his king, feeling some of the weight lift off of his shoulders. He still had decisions to make moving forward, and he knew something would still have to be done about Morgana, but he had to admit that it felt a little bit easier to breathe. 

“When did you get so wise? I don’t ever remember you talking like this before,” Merlin grumbled offhandedly, surprised that his mind had concocted such a thing. 

“It’s just part of my royal charm,  _ Mer _ lin. You wouldn’t understand,” Arthur scoffed haughtily, but Merlin picked up on the teasing undercurrent to his words and couldn’t help but smile. He missed this. 

Deciding to play along, Merlin fired back, “sure, if by that you mean your royal pratness!” He snorted. 

Arthur groaned long-sufferingly. “What have I said about that word?”

“That you love it and it is most definitely an accurate description of you?” Merlin smirked. 

“Why I put up with you, I’ll never know.”

“You love me,” Merlin explained loftily, not meaning at all to be serious. 

Arthur didn’t respond immediately. After a quiet hum, he spoke, his voice much more serious than it had sounded mere moments ago.

“You’re right,” Arthur whispered, and Merlin could hear the fond smile in his voice, “I do.”

Merlin sighed, suddenly feeling desperately lonely. “I wish you were really here to say that to me…”

Arthur tensed and pulled away slightly, as if stung. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Merlin could reply, Aithusa’s sharp cry diverted him. Merlin snapped to attention, feeling as if he’d just been pulled from a haze. When he spun around to see what had happened that could cause Aithusa to react so strongly, he felt his heart plummet. 

A gaggle of men had Aithusa trapped in cold iron chains and were currently working the muzzle onto her snout. When Merlin looked down, he realised he’d also been put into his own pair of iron chains and that Arthur was nowhere to be found. 

“Little wizard, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the leader of the group cooed. Merlin growled, attempting to call on his magic before having to abruptly pull back and glance down at his wrists.

The flesh beneath the iron cuffs was bright red and sizzling. Merlin winced at the pain, struggling to believe how the burns felt soul-deep. Whatever the cuffs were doing to him, it wasn’t just hurting his physical body, but his entire being. He was afraid to try to reach for his magic again.

“What do you want with me?” Merlin finally asked. Aithusa whimpered softly at his feet, and his heart went out to the poor creature. She’d already been locked up once before. No matter what she’d done, she didn’t deserve to have to experience it again. 

“You’re the reason magic has returned to Camelot,” one of the men growled as if it answered his question perfectly. Merlin scowled. “Magic is a plague on this earth, and we plan to get rid of it, one sick bastard at a time. Starting with the likes of you.”

Merlin flinched at the insulting term which had followed him all his life, but forced himself not to dwell on it for the moment. 

“If you’re planning to get rid of magic, why not just kill me right now? Why bother with this ruse?”

This time it was the ring leader who answered. “You deserve to suffer as we have. We want to see you cower with fear as so many innocents have before their life was ended by vile sorcerers like you.”

“Besides, what’s one more sorcerer to add to the collection?” A different man grinned wickedly, showing off a distinct lack of teeth. 

“Collection? What collection?” Merlin asked, growing more confused and horrified by the second. Had innocent magic users been disappearing under from his nose the whole time because of these men? Had he been so consumed by his hatred for Morgana that he had been blind to the suffering of his people?

The leader spun around to face someone that Merlin couldn’t see. “Shut him up, quickly. I want to reach the castle before she wakes up.”

Before Merlin could even begin to ponder who the mysterious ‘she’ was, the hilt of a sword was clobbering him upside the head and the world went careening into darkness. 

-

Merlin’s life continued on in flashes. One moment he was surrounded by darkness, and the next he was blinded by bright lights. He slipped in and out of consciousness for a while before he was able to maintain alertness. 

When he came to for the last time, Merlin looked around and say that they were surrounded by the ruins of an old castle, not unlike where they had discovered the first round table. The walls were crumbling, but he could make out something of a structure and outline. Where the courtyard would have once been was overgrown with weeds and dying flowers, and cobblestones were being uprooted out of the ground. Wherever they were, it was isolated and long forgotten. 

Just the perfect place to disappear to and never be heard from again. Without his magic, Merlin feared just that. 

Aithusa whined from inside her muzzle, but couldn’t get much out beyond that. Merlin watched her warily, wondering if her magic was also being constricted by the cold iron. That was how it had been with Kilgharrah. 

_ Damnit. _ Would they need a blade from the Knights of Medhir to be able to break these chains too? Merlin sincerely hoped not, or else they were never going to be free of the place. 

“Finally awake, then? Hah,” one of the mercenaries cackled, and Merlin could smell the distinct scent of booze on the man’s breath. His beard stunk something awful. Merlin recoiled slightly, but the man didn’t seem perturbed. 

“C’mon men, why don’t we introduce our guest to his new cellmate?” The leader suggested, and Merlin worried at the way the other men’s eyes began to light up. They grabbed him roughly by the scruff of his neck and began to drag him.

“Hey, let me go! I can walk,” Merlin growled, not eager to be made a fool by the men. They began to jerk on Aithusa’s chains at the same time. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and she desperately tried to dig her claws into the earth to no avail. With her crippled in such a way, the men were stronger. 

“Don’t touch her!” Merlin ordered, feeling his bond with Aithusa spike with fear. He desperately wished Aithusa understood the language of man, so he could calm her, but instead he had to send soothing feelings across the bond. 

“Oi, keep your mouth shut,” someone growled before letting their fist slam into his nose. Merlin flinched away too late and could feel blood begin to leak out of nostrils. He could tell he was going to have a wicked bruise in a few hours. 

Choosing to remain silent for fear of the consequences, Merlin glared at his captors as they dragged him roughly down a set of stairs. They seemed to lead to a set of cells, smelling of piss and rot. Something clattered down below and he could only assume it was rats. 

They led him to an occupied cell, but Merlin couldn’t see who was inside. They were huddled in on themselves, their face obscured by long, tangled black hair. Although it could’ve been a man, the black dress they wore had Merlin thinking the captive was a woman. 

One of the men revealed a rusted key, shoving it into the lock and twisted it with a resounding clang. The cell door groaned open, and the leader of the group entered, thrusting a good kick at the woman’s stomach. 

The woman spluttered awake, lifting her head groggily, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. 

_ Morgana? _

Were his eyes deceiving him? No, that was most certainly her. Instantly, fury began to fill him up and if it weren’t for the chains holding him back, Merlin was sure he would have lunged for her. 

His earlier revelation still burned brightly in his mind, but that by no means meant that Morgana didn’t have to pay for what she’d done. Merlin couldn’t help the instinctual reaction. The woman  _ had _ orchestrated Arthur’s death. 

Morgana’s eyes rose from the ground slowly, traversing up his body before settling on his gaze. The witch swallowed uncomfortably. “E-Emrys. You’re here?” Her voice was gravelly and hoarse from what must have been screaming. Merlin recoiled at the sound of it. 

“Good morning, little lady,” the leader grinned wickedly. “We’d like to introduce you to your new cell-mate!” The next moment, Merlin was being shoved into the cell unceremoniously. He landed roughly in the rotten-smelling hay. 

The cell door was slammed close behind him with the sharp sound of finality. The men began to laugh cruelly as they locked the cell and drug Aithusa away to who knew where. 

The sound of Aithusa’s cry echoed down the hall, leaving Merlin with a sick feeling in his stomach as he slowly spun around to face the woman who had killed his king.


	6. Five

“So,” Merlin began. “This is where you’ve been all this time, is it?”

Morgana ignored him, choosing instead to retreat into the corner. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. 

“How’d they capture you, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be some great ‘high lady’? Rightful heir to the throne of Camelot? I thought you would be stronger than that. You’ve fallen quite a ways,” Merlin spoke, his voice numb. Was it really to be his fate to be imprisoned with the likes of Morgana? He wasn’t sure he believed it yet. 

Morgana remained silent, her head turned away from him. 

“It serves you right for running from him. You had him killed, and you couldn’t even stick around to see it done? You couldn’t face the evil you’d done?”

That comment seemed to get a rise out of Morgana. A strangled whimper escaped her throat. Merlin leaned forward, suddenly curious. Of all the things to have caught her attention, it was that? Was she possibly feeling… guilty? He decided to press the issue and see if he could get anything else out of her.

“Weren’t you _proud_ of what you’d done? Didn’t you want to see the fruit of your labour? To watch the light fade out of his eyes as he struggled to breathe, as _I_ did? Didn’t you want to watch your brother _die?”_ Merlin’s voice descended into a growl, recalling the way Arthur’s limp body had felt in his arms. 

Morgana sucked in a ragged breath. “Don’t speak to me of that, Emrys,” she pleaded. 

Merlin frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? It was all you could speak of for _years._ What’s changed? Why now?” He didn’t want to believe this sudden change of heart. Morgana must have been scheming something. It didn’t make sense for her to play as some kind of victim. Merlin knew she’d always been a good actress, especially back when she’d been hiding her true nature from Camelot. However, that had been for a much clearer purpose. What was her goal now? To make him feel sorry for her? 

When Morgana spoke again, it was not with an answer to his question. 

“Was… was that Aithusa?” She asked with a timid voice. “Is she... alright?”

Merlin turned away in the direction they’d taken the dragon. He _hoped_ she was alright. He didn’t want to begin to imagine what they had planned for the poor creature. 

“...and why should I tell you?” 

“Please,” came Morgana’s broken whisper. Something in Merlin softened, albeit without his permission. He decided to grant her an answer. 

“She’s fine,” he replied. “Last I saw her, she was fine.”

Morgana didn’t acknowledge his answer verbally, but Merlin could see something in her shoulders relax at the news. She went on to bury her face in her knees once more. Merlin almost found himself attempting to speak to her again, but the effort was exhausting. He decided not to. 

Together, they descended into cold, empty silence.

-

Time lost any and all meaning after that. They were already deep underground without a window, so Merlin had no way of knowing if it was night or day. They were occasionally allowed the privilege of a torch, if their captors were feeling ‘kind’ enough. Merlin thought they just liked to mess with him. There was no kindness to be found in keeping a man captive.

He had attempted to track the time using meal-times, but the ever-increasing bouts of hunger between each meal (could it even be considered a meal? It was more like a measly slice of mouldy bread) showed him that the timing was not consistent. He got so lost in it sometimes that it was impossible to know if it had been minutes or days since he’d eaten. 

If he’d had his magic, Merlin could have escaped within minutes. He could have left Morgana there for dead, a fitting punishment for what she’d done to Arthur. At the very least, he could have created a light to drown out the horrible darkness. Alas, his magic was untouchable. 

That was not to say that Merlin hadn’t tried. He certainly had. Each attempt left him more drained and weary than the last. His wrists chafed against their binds, and the burns caused by the cold iron only exacerbated the symptoms. On top of that, lack of access to his magic had left him exhausted all the time. It was just as bad, if not worse, than what it felt like to be deprived of food or drink. It was like being deprived of the very air he needed to breathe, as if he were trying to breathe through mud every time he attempted to access his magic. It was only marginally better if he left his powers alone. 

Morgana remained stoically silent. It was certainly an odd change of character for her. For so long, she’d been so vocal about her anger and her ideals that he’d prayed for her silence. Now Merlin wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

The only sign of life Merlin had seen of her was when Aithusa’s pained cries reached their ears, and Merlin could see Morgana flinch at the sound. He hadn’t tried to speak to her again since their first conversation and Morgana hadn’t made any attempts to reach out either. They stayed on opposite sides of the cell, and if it weren’t for the smell of her or the sound of her whimpering breath, Merlin wouldn’t have known she was there at all. 

It was a strange existence he led.

With his neckerchief tucked up underneath his head and his jacket draped over him, Merlin curled up in an attempt to get some sleep and ignore the hunger that gnawed at him. Just as he could feel himself slipping away, the jangling of keys brought him back to reality. 

Merlin looked up warily to see one of the henchmen, whose name was Willard he’d learned, illuminated by torch-light. With a sneer, the man swung the door open and stepped inside. 

Merlin’s eyes went wide. In all the time he’d been held captive there, he’d never seen any of the men open the cell, let alone step _inside_ of it. He sat up straighter and shrugged his jacket (which fit very loosely now) on as he waited to see what Willard would do. 

“You’re up, little lady,” Willard sniffed before grabbing a hold of Morgana’s arms. From how tight the grip was, Merlin knew Morgana would likely have a hand-shaped bruise soon. Morgana didn’t even try to fight him as he jerked her into a standing position, despite the fact that her legs seemed barely capable of supporting her weight. Morgana hung like a dead weight from his grasp. 

As Willard began dragging Morgana out, Merlin suddenly found his voice. “Where-...” he tried to begin, but had to pause to clear his throat. It was gravelly and hoarse from disuse. “Where are you taking her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Willard laughed, giving Morgana’s arm a rough shake. One of the guards waiting outside gestured for them to hurry up. 

“Yes, actually. That’s why I asked,” Merlin deadpanned with a straight face, but he couldn’t help letting his eyes flick to Morgana. What did they want with her? Wasn’t locking her up and taking away her magic more than enough for their vile crusade? He knew now from experience how cruel the treatment was. 

The guard apparently did not appreciate sarcasm, as Merlin’s face was suddenly struck with a harsh slap. Merlin recoiled with a gasp, bringing a hand up gingerly to his face. His fingers came away wet with blood. Apparently, the guard’s leather gloves had struck him in such a way that it broke the skin. 

“You keep your mouth shut unless you want to be taking her place,” Willard growled, giving him one last glare before turning the corner with Morgana in his grasp. Merlin and Morgana’s eyes met at the last moment, and he saw a desperate plea for help in them. Before he could do anything, they were gone. The guard swung the cell door closed and locked it before he followed after Willard and Morgana. 

Merlin slunk over to his corner slowly, landing roughly on the damp stone floor. He kicked some of the hay out of the way, scowling. He glanced over at the empty space where Morgana had been mere moments ago, and was suddenly struck by the fact that he was truly alone for the first time in days. He leaned his head back against the rough stone and closed his eyes shut in an attempt not to cry. 

What were they doing to Morgana, wherever they’d taken her? What if she never returned? Were they just going to leave Merlin down there? Even though there had been silence in the days prior, it suddenly felt suffocating. Merlin gasped. 

“You feeling alright there, Merlin? That cut doesn’t look too good.”

Merlin sprang up to get a good look at him. “Arthur!” He laughed, happy tears cascading down his cheeks. He was vaguely aware of the way the salty liquid burned against his fresh cut but he didn’t care. “You came back!”

Arthur looked confused but laughed anyway. “I suppose I did?”

Merlin threw his arms around Arthur’s broad shoulders and sighed into the contact as Arthur hugged him back. “I missed you,” he mumbled contentedly. 

“You of all people should know we’re rarely ever apart, Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes, although the action contained no malice. Merlin knew Arthur was just teasing him and showing that he cared in his own way. 

Merlin wasn’t entirely sure what Arthur meant by saying they were rarely ever apart. Most days he felt Arthur’s absence keenly. However, Merlin didn’t particularly care for the semantics of Arthur’s strange words, as long as he was there. Even if he was just a nice dream. 

“I don’t care,” Merlin smiled in response. “I don’t like the loneliness.”

“Well, I could’ve told you that. You’ve always been a people-person. It drives me mad sometimes!” Arthur stepped out of the embrace, ruffling Merlin’s hair with his knuckles. 

“Me being a people person is the only reason you have friends, remember?” Merlin shot back with a smirk. “I introduced you to Gwen, Lancelot, and Gwaine, and so many more!”

“Well then, what about Leon? I knew him before I met you!” Arthur tried to defend himself, but it was a moot point. 

“When did you actually start _talking_ to Leon? I’m pretty sure it was after I helped you get your head out of your ass!” Merlin laughed. 

Arthur grumbled but seemed to accept defeat. “Fine, then. Whatever you say…” Then, he looked thoughtful. “Are you sure you’re alright? That cut doesn’t look pleasant.” Arthur hesitantly reached out, gently brushing against his cheek. 

“I’ll be fine,” Merlin assured. “I’ve had worse-”

A horrible scream echoed down the halls, causing Merlin to flinch and spin around in the direction it had come from. It was different from the usual cries he’d gotten accustomed to hearing from Aithusa. It was human, and feminine in nature. Morgana…? 

Turning to see if Arthur had heard it, Merlin was met with only disappointment. Arthur was gone once more. 

“I’m going insane,” Merlin decided, pulling at his hair as he tried to fight off tears. 

-

The sound of a body hitting the floor roughly woke Merlin from his sleep. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but apparently he had. Cautiously, he looked over to see where Morgana had landed and was met with a violent sight. 

Morgana’s back was in shreds, and the remains of her already thread-bare dress in tatters. It was difficult to make out where she’d been struck because of how the pooling blood obscured the sight, but it was clear that she’d been flogged. 

Merlin crept over silently to her on his hands and knees. “Morgana…? Are you awake…?” He asked, gauging her consciousness. A soft moan came in reply. Morgana moved her arms to support herself, and Merlin realised she was trying to sit up. 

“Shh, don’t move,” Merlin spoke, feeling some momentary relief as she collapsed softly back onto the ground. “I don’t have anything to treat this with, but I’ll use my scarf to try and clear away some of the blood. This might hurt,” he warned, untying the old neckerchief from around his throat. 

Gently, he began to cut away some of the dress as best as he could using his hands and fingernails. It wasn’t hard with the state it was in. Next, he began to dab at some of the wounds with the scarf. Although the touch was barely there, a mangled scream tore out of Morgana’s throat. 

The pity he felt was unexpected. He couldn’t explain it, but it was there. It was like being struck by lightning, unexpected and unbelievably quick. Merlin did his best to ignore it and numb himself to treating his patient. 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin made an empty apology as he brought the scarf back down. Morgana flinched harshly. The motions became repetitive, but were effective. Soon he could see the pale pink of her flesh, stained with blood and tearing at the seams. The blood was beginning to clot which he was thankful for. 

Glancing down at the neckerchief, he realised it was sopping wet. With a grimace, he wrung out some of the excess blood over the already soiled hay. It didn’t help much. The blue garment rather resembled one of his red neckerchiefs. He tossed it aside to let it dry. Maybe if they decided they could spare the water they would wash it in a few days. 

Morgana began to shiver, and Merlin’s worry increased. She was at a great risk for infection without anything to treat the wounds with. Besides that, he knew the neckerchief hadn’t exactly been clean when he’d used it, but he had no other choice. The shivers grew worse, however, and Merlin reluctantly draped his leather jacket over her. He’d already ruined one piece of clothing, why not another?

The action felt strangely familiar to him. Merlin remembered a time oh so long ago when he’d done something similar with Freya. She’d been dying then, too. 

_Oh._

The realization struck him hard. Morgana might _die._

A few weeks ago, that would’ve been all he wished for. Now, the thought of being left alone in this place threatened to drive Merlin to tears. He almost couldn’t believe that he was helping the woman who had Arthur killed, but another part of him felt strangely numb to the news. 

“Why… why are you helping me?” Morgana croaked uncomfortably. 

“Shh. You should rest,” Merlin replied, avoiding the question. 

_“Emrys.”_

Merlin sighed, scooting away from her now that he knew he’d done all he could for her considering the circumstances. 

“Something Arthur said to me once, that’s all,” he mumbled, excluding the fact that it had been his mind’s version of Arthur that had supplied it. He’d been right, though. The Merlin who’d set foot into Camelot all those years ago would’ve helped Morgana, no matter what. He would’ve seen the good in everyone. 

Merlin decided then that he was going to live every dayeveryday asking himself that question. _What would I have done, then? Would I have approved of my actions?_ If what Merlin suspected about himself (his possible immortality) was true, he didn’t think he could stand it if he just grew old and bitter. He wanted to be _good._ He wanted to live and one day be able to enjoy things, like finally meeting Arthur’s child. If he ever escaped his captivity, that was. 

Maybe if he’d asked himself those questions when Kilgharrah had told him to poison Morgana, they wouldn’t be in that cell together. Maybe they would be together in Camelot, celebrating the return of magic with Arthur. There were so many what-ifs and maybes that Merlin could drive himself crazy if he wished. 

Merlin wanted to be someone Arthur could be proud of, too. He had to remember that. 

-

The temperature in the cell dropped not long after their stilted conversation, almost immediately followed by the torchlight flickering out. Without his jacket, Merlin felt the cold strongly. He retreated into himself and tried to retain as much heat as he could while Morgana slept. 

One thing he’d noticed that had changed since he’d lost access to his magic was that Merlin struggled to stay warm. It was as if his magic was the fire that warmed his bones, and without it, he felt weary and cold. He could only pray that the feeling went away after time. 

Merlin managed a few scattered minutes of sleep throughout the night, but it didn’t seem to help him any. By the time the guards came stumbling in he was more exhausted than he’d been before. They tossed two thin slices of bread in between the gaps in their cell door, as well as sliding a small bowl of murky water under the door. 

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the treatment. It was like they were animals or something less than human. Instead, he stayed quiet to avoid pointlessly risking their ire like he had the day before. With a final sneer, the guards shuffled away once more, their duty completed. 

At the sight of the bread, Merlin suddenly realised how hungry he was. He dove for it quickly and tore one of the pieces in half. He barely remembered to scrape the dirt away before he was biting into it. 

The bread was stale and relatively flavourless, but to a man who hadn’t eaten, it tasted heavenly. Before he knew it, half the slice was gone and he was quickly reaching for the other half. Merlin had originally intended to save it, but once he’d begun eating he could scarcely stop himself. Besides, he needed to build up whatever measly strength he could if he was going to survive that place. 

Merlin restrained himself from devouring the piece that belonged to Morgana, but he did eye it hungrily. He knew it would be wrong of him to eat it, though. She’d been starving for much longer than he had, and she’d been injured just the day prior. She too needed to build up her strength. 

Next, Merlin picked up the small metal bowl and tilted it into his lips. Things he couldn’t quite make out floated ominously in the water. He cringed at the taste of it, knowing he was risking illness or disease by drinking it, but the other alternative was death. He couldn’t live without water. 

Although… perhaps he could construct some sort of water filter? Merlin glanced around quickly, before spotting the objects he wished to use. The guards had left behind one of the previous bowls used for the water, and there were enough rocks and dirt in the cell to use as the filter. His neckerchief could serve as a filter, although it was somewhat bloody from using it on Morgana. Still, consuming a little watered down blood was better than drinking disease-causing waste. 

Merlin quickly set the device up before straining the water through it. He repeated the process a few times to filter out as much as he could. There was no way to know if it had been effective, but it was certainly better than nothing. Then, taking the (hopefully) purified water over to Morgana, he coaxed her to drink. 

At first, Morgana resisted, turning her face away. Merlin tried again, but it was the same result. 

“Morgana,” he sighed, “You need to drink.”

Once she realised it was Merlin who was trying to help her, she reluctantly parted her lips and let him tip some of the water past them. She took a few swallows before turning her head away and sighing into the floor. Merlin set the water aside then, hoping to save the rest. Next, he offered her the piece of bread intended for her. 

When she was finished eating, Merlin instructed her to lie flat. Then, using the neckerchief that had been thoroughly soaked from being used as a filter for the water, he began to dab at the wound once again. 

“Nnnngh,” Morgana winced, her hands curling into fists. “Hurts,” she whispered. Merlin stayed silent, unsure of what to say to her. 

Soon enough he’d gotten the wound as clean as he could. The skin was clearly in tatters, but at least the blood had seemed to clot some overnight. The wound itself wouldn't prove deadly, although it would likely scar, however Merlin was more worried about infection. If the wound wasn’t _properly_ treated, especially in the conditions they were being forced to live in, the risks of infection increased tremendously. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The voice was low and dangerous, surprising him. Merlin had thought they would have been left alone for at least a few more hours. As he turned around to stare at the guard, his eyes widened. The man looked furious. They stared at each other silently for a moment. 

“Come here, boy!” The man snapped. An idea struck him. 

“Why should I?” Merlin glared. “Go bother someone else.”

The words had their intended effect, and Merlin had to bite back a grin. The guard immediately became incensed, springing forward towards the door. He hastily unlocked it, his hands trembling from anger, before throwing the cell door open and stomping towards Merlin. 

Just as the guard thrust his meaty hands forward to grab him, Merlin sprung his trap. He jumped to his feet and ducked behind the man before throwing his chained wrists in front of his head. 

As soon as Merlin was sure the chain that held his wrists together was secured around the man’s throat, he began to _tug._ Immediately, the guard began to struggle, making Merlin pull against him even harder. 

The guard slammed the heel of his foot backwards into Merlin, making him stumble. The guard took his chance immediately, ducking out from the trap and spinning around to face Merlin, vessels throbbing and face burning red with fury. 

Knowing he’d lost his advantage over the man, Merlin attempted to make a run for it. The cell door was wide open and there was no one in his path. _Maybe he could make it!_ If he just got past the guards, he could steal a horse and make his way back to Camelot. Gaius could help him figure out to remove the magic binding restraints, and they could at last rest easy knowing Morgana would likely die before she could escape from their captors. 

Merlin felt a little guilty at the thought. Was leaving her there to rot really for the best?

No. It would be _fine._ A fitting punishment for her crimes that Merlin would have no part in. It was justice served at last. 

But then why had he helped her, if he was just going to leave her to die? Was that what Arthur would have done? His king had always held out hope…

Merlin reached the top of the staircase, breathless. The days of malnourishment and being separated from his magic had sapped at his stamina, and attempting to overpower the guard had already taken a lot out of him. How much farther could he go like that?

There was no time to find out, because as soon as he reached the landing, Merlin was surrounded. He lowered himself into a fighting stance, one Arthur had insisted he learn many years ago, and tried to prepare himself to use his magic. It would be painful, but if he could manage it, it would definitely be worth it. 

Just as the words to call on his magic were on Merlin’s lips, something hit him from behind and the world went dark.


	7. Six

When Merlin next awoke, it was to a pounding headache and a new cell. Alarmed, he tried to sit up and make sense of what had happened and where he was. However, when he tried to get to his feet, Merlin toppled forward and slammed into the ground. 

He turned around to see what had caused him to trip, and what he saw filled him with anger. The men holding them captive had bound his ankles together with a new set of chains. Merlin wouldn’t be running again. 

Grumbling, Merlin scooted back into the corner of the cell and huddled in on himself. It was getting cold, he realised. He looked around for his jacket or his neckerchief before remembering he’d left the items of clothing with Morgana. 

Where was Morgana? The light in his cell was dim but there was enough to know that she wasn’t with him. Had they killed her, or just taken her somewhere else? The possibility of being alone in that place truly terrified him, and he prayed that she was somewhere nearby, if just for the sake of his sanity. 

“Morgana?” Merlin called into the air. He anxiously awaited whatever reply he would receive, whether it be silence or the sound of Morgana’s voice.

There were a few beats of uncomfortable silence before he heard the sound of a body moving against the floor and the quiet croak of “...Merlin?”

Merlin sighed. She was nearby, but not somewhere he could get to. He doubted they’d ever share the same cell again, especially if their captors didn’t want them helping each other. Merlin feared for what this meant for her wounds and the risk of infection, although there likely wasn’t anything else he could have done from inside the cell anyway. 

For the first time since he’d arrived, Morgana surprised him and tried to strike up a conversation with him. His eyes widened as her words of concern carried down the hall. 

“Are you… alright? Did you get very far?”

“I’m… I’m okay,” Merlin answered honestly. There didn’t seem to be anything new wrong with him, besides what had already been hurting him and the new headache. “I managed to climb a few sets of stairs, but they stopped me before I could get much further.”

Merlin sighed, thinking of the first glimpse of sunlight he’d managed to see in what must have been weeks. If he had only been a little bit faster or a little quieter, he could have been on his way to freedom. Instead, he was more trapped than he’d ever been. 

“And you? Are you alright?” Merlin called to her warily. 

“I’m fine,” Morgana responded. “Better than earlier,” she added, her tone clipped. 

“That’s… good.” Then, another thought struck him. “How long have they been keeping you here?”

Morgana made a small noise of surprise. “Since Arthur’s death. I thought you knew this.”

Merlin frowned. That didn’t make any sense! If she hadn’t had access to her magic, how could she have been responsible for the Harbinger? 

“You didn’t have access to your magic, right?” Merlin followed up with, swallowing uncomfortably. If she hadn’t sent the Harbinger, who had?

Morgana scoffed. “If I had, do you think I would still be here?”

“Oh,” Merlin replied quietly, his worry skyrocketing. Someone had sent the Harbinger, and it wasn’t her. That meant that there was someone else out there threatening Camelot. He  _ needed _ to find a way out and get home.

After they exchanged those few sentences, they descended into silence once more. Neither were still particularly eager to speak to the other, despite what had happened earlier. 

Merlin didn’t know how long they sat like that. Time moved slowly in captivity. There was no way to know if it had been minutes or hours that had passed, and the silence and solitude only made it worse. 

However, the silence was eventually broken. Willard came clomping down the hall with other guards at his heel, the torch in his hand illuminating the new space he was in. With the light, he could see the cell he was held in was not much different to the one they’d kept him in before. 

“You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you, boy?” Willard growled, pressing his face up between the bars of the cell door. “You’re gonna pay for it. Master would like to see you now, ain’t that right?” His eyes flickered over to the guards that flanked him. Gleeful smiles lit up their faces at the words. 

Then, Willard took the key to the cell off of his belt and slid it into the lock. As he turned the key, he never once took his eyes off Merlin. There was a cold hatred in them that almost made Merlin look away, but he forced himself not to break eye contact. 

Merlin would never understand the men who took such a stance against magic. Their hatred was just as bad if not worse than what they thought magic could do. The real sickness was their anger, and Merlin would never cower before a man like that. 

The door swung open and the guards swooped in, grabbing him by the elbows and yanking him upwards. With a growl, Merlin jerked one of his arms free. 

“Let me go!” Merlin ordered, only for them to grab him harder than they had the first time. “I said,  _ let me go!” _

A guard forced his fingers beneath the magic binding cuff and dug his fingernails into the raw burn. Merlin gasped out in pain and tried to jerk away once more, which was a mistake. The fingernails tore across his flesh as Merlin moved, leaving his already burned flesh in bloody tatters. 

Merlin clutched the wrist to himself and glared at the men. When they tried to pull at him again, he reluctantly gave in, seeing no point in harming himself further. He suspected what was to come next would be much worse, and they would do whatever it took to get him there. 

As the guards led him away, they passed by Morgana and his old cell. She lifted her head from the floor to look at him, her eyes worried and her mouth set in a grim line. They made eye contact only for the briefest moment before she nodded slowly, a show of solidarity. Although they may never find love in their hearts for the other again, they were in it together. The affirmation gave him some relief. 

Merlin was directed to a part of the old castle he’d never set foot in before. He knew it was where they had taken Morgana only the day before, and where they’d whisked Aithusa away to when they’d first arrived. 

When they arrived, Merlin was immediately forced onto his knees by a swift kick in the back of the legs. He landed with a grimace, knowing the rough floor had scraped his knees up, but there wasn’t much he could do for it at the moment. Then he looked up to take in his surroundings for the first time. 

The man, named Merek, who was most assuredly the leader of the rag-tag but strangely powerful group was sitting relaxedly on an old throne. There was no opulence to it like Arthur’s, as it was just an old wooden chair, but it was intricately carved and raised high above the others as a show of power. Numbly, Merlin wondered what made the man qualified to be their leader. The others were scattered around the room, all with their vile eyes trained solely on him. 

“You’re going to pay for that pitiful little escape trick you tried,” Merek began slowly, “and once we’re done with you, you’ll never try anything like it again.”

“What do you even want with me? What have I  _ ever _ done to you?” Merlin grit out as he stared up at the man. 

“It is because of  _ your _ kind that my family, and so many others, are dead,” Merek growled, “and so it is your kind that will suffer.” Then, Merek turned to snap at one of the men waiting behind him. The man approached carrying a small glass vial in his hands. 

“Do you know what this is?” Merek smiled cruelly, showing him the glass. Merlin eyed it cautiously but found he did not recognize it. He shook his head no. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the mandrake root, yes? A tool you magic users have used to drive men to insanity,” Merek began to explain, and Merlin’s eyes widened. “This here is a special concoction we managed to get from one of your kind before we made her pay for her crimes. Sourced from the mandrake root, this will induce horrific visions and bring you to the very brink of insanity. It should teach you not to run again.”

Then Merek rose to his feet and uncorked the vial, making his way over to Merlin. “Restrain him,” he ordered lazily, bringing an extra set of guards upon him. Two men put pressure down on his shoulders to keep him from trying to move anywhere, while another man forced his head back uncomfortably, pinching his nose and prying his jaw wide open. 

Merlin tried to squirm away from the men, but his thin frame and lack of magic were of no help to him. Merek poured the vile concoction down his throat and Merlin tried not to swallow, choking on the liquid as it pooled in his throat. They forced his mouth closed and worked at his throat until he was at last forced to swallow. 

The effects were not instantaneous, or at least he thought so, and he dreaded the moment they would start to take hold. He blinked lazily at the men smiling cruelly down at him, and when he opened his eyes he was startled to find himself back in his cell. 

Merlin released a muffled scream into his hand, very startled. When had they brought him back? How had he gotten there? A shadow caught his eye in the corner, causing him to flinch. 

“Merlin?” Morgana asked warily. In the distance he could hear the sound of deranged laughter, and screams that sounded strangely like Arthur’s. 

“...Morgana?” Merlin replied. “What’s happening?”

A bolt of lightning descended from the ceiling, illuminated the cells surrounding him. Across from him, Merlin could see the outline of a man wearing a crown and water dripping from his fingertips. The continuous  _ drip, drip, drip _ sound as it hit the floor was maddening. 

“-lin! Merlin, can you hear me?” Morgana’s voice sounded increasingly desperate. The shadowy man stepped closer, his footsteps echoing like thunder against the sky. 

_ “Merlinnn…” _ Arthur’s voice cooed. “Merlin, why won’t you look at me? Look upon your failure and  _ see.” _ Merlin blinked, and in an instant Arthur was in his face, hot putrid breath hitting his skin. The milky whites of his eyes were bright against the darkness, and his lips were pulled into a bloody grin. Merlin screamed. 

The visions did not leave him. As lightning continued to flash strike violently (how was it even doing that? They were  _ underground) _ it illuminated bodies surrounding him across the floor. First, it was Lancelot lying prone on the floor. Then, it was Elyan. Next, Gwaine. 

They began screaming, calling his name, begging for Merlin to help them-

“Merlin, focus on my voice,” a soothing tone broke through the madness. “None of this is real, Merlin. You’re alright. Just listen to the sound of my voice. 

“Morgana?” Merlin stuttered out, right before the screaming picked back up again. A darkness began encroaching on his friends, and their pleas for help became even more desperate.

“Why won’t you save us, Merlin?”

“We thought we were your friends!”

“You abandoned us, Merlin. Why did you let us die?”

“I’m going to tell you a story, alright? It’s about my mother,” Morgana’s voice broke through again. For some reason, it felt more substantial than the other voices that surrounded him. It grounded him. As long as he could hear it, everything else seemed to fall away. 

“My mother, Vivienne… she was such a kind woman. She saw the best in every person she met, and she treasured those with magic most of all. She saw it as a gift, granted to those who truly needed it. She saw what they struggled with, and offered them love.

I don’t remember her having magic when I was growing up, but… she must have had it. Both Morgause and I do. I remember she used to have these terrible nightmares, though she never complained to me about them. I think she was a seer, like me.”

The screaming became more and more drowned out by the sound of her voice, and Merlin began to pay attention to the history she was sharing with him. He didn’t think he’d ever heard much about Morgana’s mother. 

“She kept it hidden, of course, living in Uther’s kingdom. She was less vocal about her love for magic in her later years too, but she didn’t try to hide it from me. Mother always told me the most wonderful stories…” For a moment she trailed off almost breathlessly, likely revisiting a fond memory in her mind. Merlin found it was something he could relate to. His mother had been a quiet woman, for safety’s sake, but she had wanted him to have a sense of pride in his magic. She too had regaled him with warm, loving stories. 

“That’s… That’s not what I meant to tell you, though,” Morgana muttered, sounding frustrated with herself for getting off track. “You see, I used to have nightmares as a young girl too. They might have been early signs of the visions I would get later, but it’s impossible to know now. The thing is, my mother would always come and find me if I’d had one. It was like she had some sort of sixth sense for it. Maybe it  _ was _ magic. 

“Anyway, I used to get so worked up about the dreams, that she’d bring a sprig of rosemary to calm me down. Mother would have me breathe the scent in, and it always relaxed me. She told me that you can’t smell something in a dream and that if you could find something to smell, the nightmare was over and you could ground yourself. I don’t think it had anything specifically to do with rosemary, but it was a favourite of hers.”

Merlin took a calming breath, and the chaos faded almost completely into the background. He liked rosemary, he knew that. It was impossible not to be familiar with such a plant having lived under an herbalist for many years. If he focused enough, he could remember the way it smelled. It was… nice. 

“I thought something similar might help you, Merlin. Try to think about what you can smell around you.  _ That’s _ what’s real, not the visions you’re seeing.”

What could Merlin smell? There was the ever pervading scent of moisture and mildew clinging to the cell. The metallic scent of blood. The smell of rotting waste. None of the whiffs he got were pleasant, but they felt real. It calmed his mind to categorize them. 

“Are you, uh… feeling better? You’re not screaming anymore,” Morgana asked awkwardly, clearing her throat after a few minutes of silence. Merlin thought about his answer for a moment before answering. The practice had made the world around him feel… solid and real. 

“I am,” Merlin answered with a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Morgana shot back, although it wasn’t necessarily unkind. Just honest. “You helped me earlier and I’m repaying the debt. We’re even now.”

It was a strange place to be, Merlin realised, when  _ Morgana _ owed him a debt. With it paid, they were once again on even ground, although he doubted they’d ever go back to the way things had been. They’d seen each other vulnerable and chosen to aid the other in one of their worst moments. Merlin could feel there was mutual respect between them, now, and he didn’t think they could ever truly be “enemies” again. 

He still had one question, though, before he was willing to set aside what Morgana had done in favour of peace. 

“After the Battle of Camlann… why did you run?”

The tension in the prison cells was palpable. Even in the dark, Merlin could see Morgana squirm away from the question. 

“Please, Morgana. I have to know. He died in my arms.”

“He…” Morgana tried, her voice breaking. “He was my brother, once. A long time ago, before we knew the truth,” she explained, her words heavy. “I didn’t want to watch the boy who showed me kindness once die.

“I don’t… I don’t regret ending Uther’s line of tyranny against magic. I’ll never regret that, but I regret that it had to be with Arthur. He was good, once. If he had stepped aside and let me return magic to the land, I would’ve made peace with him. But, he chose to stand against me, and that sealed his fate.”

Merlin’s throat felt choked at the words. Things could have played out so differently between the three of them, but mistakes committed by all had gotten in the way. 

Although it should have surprised him that Morgana felt some remorse for the way things ended, it didn’t. The explanation made sense to him. He knew Arthur had always regretted the way things had melted down between the two to the very end, and had offered her chances to redeem herself. Even though Merlin didn’t know much about the childhood the two of them shared, it had to be true that there had been fondness between them. 

The answer gave Merlin some peace, at last. It wouldn’t bring Arthur back, and it would never be enough to make up for what she’d done, but it firmed his resolve about not seeking revenge against her.

Then, his mind drifted to the current predicament surrounding the pair of them. Merlin dreaded the thought of what else Merek and his men had in store for the two of them. What he had just experienced was already horrific enough. There had to be a way to stop it. 

“Morgana…” Merlin began cautiously. Morgana didn’t immediately reply, but he could sense her alertness. She was listening. 

“Listen, we’re even now, I get that, but I’m going to need your help again. We need to get out of here. If you help me, I’ll let you walk away once it’s done as long as you promise never to bother Camelot again. I just can’t do it without you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then…

“I’m listening.”


	8. Seven

“So, how do you propose we do this? I’m not saying we can’t, but we’re both exhausted and confined to these damn chains,” Morgana asked, the clinking of the cuffs echoing to emphasize her point. 

“I have a way out of the cuffs. It’s going to be painful, though,” Merlin winced, thinking of what he had planned. 

“You can’t be serious,” Morgana asked incredulously, having caught onto his train of thought. 

Merlin sighed. “We both don’t have to do it, only one of us. If I can just dislocate one of my thumbs, I should be able to get out of one cuff easily enough. The other one should follow easily enough. Then, I’ll have my magic, and I can get you out of yours easily enough,” he suggested. 

“That gets us out of the cells, but what next? We’re not leaving Aithusa behind,” she added, her tone severe. It was strange how fond she was of the dragon. Merlin wondered if there had ever been dragon ladies. Morgana likely would have made a good one. 

“I’ll take care of Aithusa,” Merlin decided. It would also serve as good leverage over her if she tried to abandon him. If she did leave him behind she would also be abandoning her beloved dragon. He didn’t tell her that, though. “Meanwhile, I’ll need you to secure our way out as quietly as possible. Do you think you can do that?” He asked. 

Morgana laughed darkly. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Once I have my magic back, they’re going to pay for what they’ve done.”

Merlin chose not to comment on the methods he knew she intended to use. If it would get them both out of there alive, that was all he cared about. He just wanted to get home no matter the cost. 

“When do we do this?” Merlin wondered. If they did it too early, they might immediately encounter opposition. It needed to be timed well. 

“We should wait for the next mealtime,” Morgana proposed. “It will give us a chance to build our strength up, and they won’t be planning to check on us again for many hours. I’d say it’s our best shot,” she declared, and Merlin had to agree with her. He also liked the idea of getting some sleep after the ordeal he’d just had. 

With that settled, Merlin finally sat back and closed his eyes. Sleep came easily after having worn himself out so thoroughly earlier. A familiar figure approached him in his dreams. 

“I saw what happened, earlier,” Arthur spoke in lieu of a greeting. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m alright now,” Merlin smiled tiredly. “Morgana… helped, surprisingly,” he added. 

Arthur lowered himself down to sit next to Merlin. “She always was so kind when we were children,” he shrugged. “I didn’t want to believe she’d destroyed that part of herself. It was nice to know that she still had some of it in her.”

Merlin hummed in agreement. He had to wonder how much of her kindness had truly survived. He also wondered how much of it she’d destroyed herself, and how much had been crushed due to the influence of others, of  _ him. _

“Well, I won’t keep you much longer,” Arthur hopped up. “Just wanted to check on you, but now you need your rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow, confronting those witch hunters,” he explained. 

“O-Oh!” Merlin stuttered, surprised. “Thank you?”

Arthur nodded at him before disappearing around the corner, leaving Merlin to wonder once more just how much of these visions were fact or fiction. Would he ever find an answer to that question?

“Food,” Willard grunted roughly, startling Merlin from his sleep as he chucked a slice of bread at him. The water bowl followed, clattering to the floor and spilling most of its contents. Merlin sighed. There was one sip left in the bowl, maybe two, but it would have to do. 

Willard left the torch on the wall as he left, giving Merlin his first real chance to look at Morgana since he’d been carted off by the guards. Her skin was pale and her forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat, likely from infection setting in. If they were to escape, they needed to do it then, before Morgana risked getting worse. 

They ate their meals quickly and silently, and Merlin was pleased to note that some of the hunger gnawing at him had successfully dissipated. Once they were finished, they looked up at each other and nodded. It was time. 

Merlin didn’t have anything to muffle a shout of pain with, so he bit down on his lips and prayed that he found the strength to stay silent. Then, with precision that could only have been taught to him by Gaius, he gripped his thumb and  _ pulled.  _

The sickening pop and immediate pain which followed left Merlin feeling sick, but he managed to bite down a scream that would have given him away. Then, using his good hand he manoeuvred the loose finger into a position which allowed the cuff to slip right off of his hand. 

The effect was immediate. Merlin could feel the magic flicker to life, burning in his veins and flashing behind his eyes. He was able to stand taller, and felt his energy and warmth return to him. Then, he let his eyes burn gold and the other cuff fell away. The same happened to the chains tying his ankles together. 

“I’m free,” Merlin grunted, forcing his thumb back in place with another sickening pop. Morgana’s sigh of relief was palpable. “Let me help you,” he called, throwing the cell door open with a mere thought and crossing towards her. 

In just a few moments Morgana was on her feet, rubbing her newly freed wrists gingerly. Merlin noticed her back was still hunched over, likely from the pain of the wounds inflicted on her. 

“Do you think you can do this?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow. She immediately glared at him. 

“Don’t doubt me, Emrys. I would like nothing more than to tear these men limb from limb,” she growled, “and if I find that you abandon me here, there will be nothing on this earth nor in the heavens to stop me from destroying you.”

“Likewise,” Merlin replied easily. Morgana’s lips quirked up into something that resembled a smile. “Shall we?”

Morgana nodded. “I shall hope to see you soon, Emrys. Good luck.”

“Good luck, Morgana.”

They parted ways then, Morgana to carve out an exit and Merlin towards Aithusa. He didn’t know which path was going to be more difficult. On one hand, Morgana knew exactly where to go, but she was likely to meet more resistance along the way. Merlin’s path likely had less protection, but he had no idea of which direction he needed to head in. 

Merlin chose to simply rely on his most base instincts, using magic to see the way forward. Despite the weariness he still bore, it was exhilarating to feel magic rushing through him once more. He had felt so empty without it. 

The path his magic showed him led Merlin to a quieter part of the castle. He could sense he was close when two men rounded the corner, whispering with one another. Merlin hastily ducked into an alcove, pressing his back flat against the wall in the hopes that neither would see him. Thankfully they passed without much notice. 

For a group that had managed to capture two of the most powerful magic users in history, they seemed rather simple-minded. 

Once they were a safe distance away, Merlin resumed his trek. He followed down a beaten down path which ended with only one door. That must have been where they were keeping Aithusa. 

Merlin leaned forward, whispering the words of magic as the lock chaining the door closed fell to the floor. He cautiously swung the door open, and once he saw what was inside his heart broke. 

Aithusa was chained and muzzled, her wings even more broken and misshapen than the last time he’d seen them. Lashes littered her scales with blood oozing from the wounds, her treatment similar to that of Morgana’s. When Aithusa caught sight of him, she released a pained croak. Merlin rushed forward, falling to his knees and helping to free her from the chains. 

Aithusa took a tentative step forward, but her leg slipped out from underneath her and she crashed onto the floor. Merlin immediately winced. Would she be strong enough to make the escape on her own? Or would Merlin have to carry her? 

“Aithusa,” Merlin whispered. “We have to go. Please, try walking for me?” He pleaded. She looked up at him with sad eyes, and although she likely wasn’t able to understand the words, she understood the sentiment. Aithusa attempted a step, another, and another until she was able to cross the length of the cell. 

Aithusa paused at the cell door to look back at him expectantly. Merlin quickly jumped to his feet and opened the door wide enough for her, and slowly but surely they made their way back to where Merlin had last seen Morgana. The ease with which they moved worried Merlin, and he suspected that the trend would not continue. 

“We’re going to find Morgana, now,” Merlin whispered to Aithusa. She perked up at the sound of the name, recognizing it. Merlin gestured for her to follow him as he led them down the path he had almost escaped from just the other day. 

They came to the staircase and began to climb, Aithusa hunched over herself as she struggled to find room to stretch her wings. Merlin glanced upwards nervously but continued forward nonetheless. 

A clamour of furious voices being raised not far from them caused Merlin’s heart to start beating frantically. They had discovered the empty cells, apparently. 

Footsteps pounded up the staircase behind them. “Oi!” A man called. “They’re up here!”

Merlin spun around immediately, thrusting his hand forward and tossing the man into the wall. He prayed that his call hadn’t reached the others. Still, there was no time to waste. 

“Aithusa, run!” Merlin hissed, hating to do it but forcing the girl up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Merlin was right behind her. 

They reached the landing on the top of the stairs where Morgana was waiting for them. 

“What took you so long?” Morgana asked with gritted teeth, immediately joining them in their run. They skidded into the crumbling courtyard. 

“She’s hurt! We came as fast as we could,” Merlin retorted, noticing some of the irritation leech from her face as she looked at Aithusa. It was quickly replaced with righteous anger towards their captors. 

The men were quickly gaining on them, with their stronger builds and nourished bodies. Merlin knew they wouldn’t be able to outrun them, much less at the speed Aithusa was moving. 

“Bring them to me!” Merlin heard Merek growl from the top of the steps. He didn’t bother listening to the rest. 

Beside him, Morgana was tackled to the ground by one of the faster men. Her eyes glowed golden as her lips spewed a deadly spell. 

The man’s eyes went wide as his face turned purple before he finally rolled off of her, dead. Morgana sneered at him while Merlin offered her a hand up. She took it with a wince, and Merlin realised their running and her tumble had likely reopened her wounds. 

“Come on!” Merlin grunted, pulling her forwards and resuming their run. He glanced over his shoulder and murmured a spell, watching as the front wave of men was slammed into the group behind them with a deadly force, knocking most of them over. Ahead, Aithusa was picking up the pace. Morgana and Merlin raced to catch up. 

“You managed to kill a good number of them,” Morgana commented breathlessly. “The ones who remain are moving slowly or outright stopping.”

“Well, we’re  _ not,” _ Merlin emphasized. “I want as much distance between us and them. We’ll find a place to spend the night and recover and then go our separate ways in the morning.”

They ran as fast as their bodies would take them, sending waves of magic over their shoulders until it seemed their pursuers had either given up or were dead entirely. 

“Merlin…” A faraway voice cooed, and Merlin jerked his head towards it. It felt… calming,  _ safe. _

“This way!” Merlin declared, pointing the group in the direction that the voice had come from. They followed willingly.

They ran for what must have been miles before coming up on a strangely familiar cave. It almost resembled the Crystal Cave and its rock formations, but there was something different about it. The Crystal Cave seemed lighter, more pure, he realized. 

Merlin was bent over himself heaving for air by the time they finally were able to slow to a stop in front of the cave. Aithusa stumbled inside immediately, collapsing onto the rock floor. 

“I… I think we’re safe,” Merlin noted, looking in the direction they’d come from. It was silent. “Let’s… let’s rest for a moment.”

Morgana nodded, too tired to even respond. They both slid to the floor beneath them, exhausted, and breathed in the clean air. Merlin felt nothing but relief. They were  _ safe. _ He could go home to Gaius, Gwen, Percival, and Leon. If Morgana kept true to her promise, they would never have to worry about her again. 

All of this was at the front of his mind as he fell asleep, and Merlin had no idea that there was something much more dangerous to come. 


	9. Eight

#  **Chapter 8**

Sunshine trickled in through the window, rousing Merlin from his sleep. He rolled over with a groan, burying his face in the pillow beside him. The soft feather stuffing cradled his face as he moved his hand up to rub sleep out of his tired eyes. 

A knock sounded on his door. “Enter!” He called, his voice still laced with sleep. His servant, Henry, quietly bustled in with a tray of food. He set it down on the dining table and moved towards the wardrobe. 

Merlin supposed he had to get up at some point, so he reluctantly pushed the sheets off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed frame. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

“Ah, good morning, sir!” Henry greeted, standing properly at attention. “For your breakfast this morning there is fresh fruit, cheese, bread fresh from the ovens, and sliced ham. I will be laying out your outfit in a moment. King Arthur has requested your presence in his chambers as soon as you are amenable. Will there be anything else, sir?”

Merlin shook his head no. “Thank you, Henry. That will be all. You can have the rest of the afternoon off, if you like,” he offered. Henry responded with one of his rare smiles before returning to his task. 

Merlin sat down at the table and took a look at the delicious food. Suddenly, a terrible cramping began in his stomach. He was  _ starving. _ Why? He had eaten a large meal at the banquet the night before. Well, whatever the cause, he knew he had to eat. Merlin took one bite and was unable to help himself from scarfing down the rest. 

Henry had left Merlin an outfit on his bed which he quickly changed into. Then, he left to go meet Arthur, wondering what the king needed. 

The hallways were brightly lit as sunlight streamed in through the open archways. Servants greeted him with smiles as he passed, and he waved in return. Seeing the people reminded him how much he truly loved Camelot. Soon, though, he was knocking on Arthur’s chamber door. 

It was Gwen who called for him to enter and Merlin quickly slipped inside. He spotted Gwen quickly, holding baby Thomas in her arms with a smile. 

“Good morning, Merlin!” Gwen greeted him, holding Thomas’ hand up and waving it for him.

“Morning, Gwen,” Merlin smiled fondly. “And how is my favourite prince doing today?” He cooed at the boy. Thomas giggled. 

“He sat up on his own this morning, if you can believe it,” Arthur spoke from behind him, making Merlin jump in surprise, turning around. “It’s good to see you, Merlin. I see your cheek healed up nicely from the other day,” he noticed. 

Merlin frowned, bringing his hand up to his cheek. What was Arthur talking about? He didn’t remember hurting himself. It was such an odd thing to mention...

_ Loneliness, and then Aithusa. Morgana. A cell which reeked of blood and waste, filling him with despair. The gnawing despair of hunger. A glimpse of freedom, stolen. An unlikely ally- _

“I was thinking, Merlin, that it’s been too long since we had a hunting party the way we used to. Gather the knights for me and organize it, would you? It’ll be just like old times,” Arthur asked, skimming over a set of documents in his hands. Merlin’s thoughts refocused on Arthur, and he couldn’t remember what had just been going through his mind. 

“You have other servants for that now, I’ll have you know,” Merlin raised an eyebrow. He noticed Gwen try to hide a smirk by pressing a kiss to Thomas’ head. 

“I did say it would be just like old times, didn’t I?” Arthur shot right back. “Get to it, then.”

Merlin rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. He did occasionally miss being Arthur’s servant. “As you wish, Sire,” he bowed with a ridiculous fanfare. “I’ll see to it that the men are made aware.”

With that, Merlin left the queen and king’s chambers and headed in the direction of the knights’ quarters. 

“Oi, Merlin! Where are you headed, mate?” A familiar roguish voice called from behind him. Merlin turned around and found his eyes inexplicably welling with tears. 

It was just Gwaine. Why was he almost crying at the sight of his friend? Merlin quickly blinked his eyes, willing away the tears and putting a smile on his face. “I was just coming to see you, actually. Arthur wants us all to join him for a hunting party this weekend. Think you’re up for it?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Gwaine scoffed. “You tell the princess that as long as there’s booze, I’m in.”

Merlin sighed wryly. “That drinking habit of yours is going to get you killed one of these days, you know,” he advised. 

Gwaine just winked. “Yes, but isn’t it such a fun way to go?”

Merlin and Gwaine parted ways after that, their sets of laughter echoing down the hallways. He found Lancelot, Percival, Leon, and Elyan in quick succession. All of them were eager to join, and Merlin found himself looking forward to the trip. For some reason, he felt like he hadn’t seen the sun or breathed in fresh air in days. 

Once their bags had been packed and they were situated on their horses, Gwen bid them farewell from on top of the stairs, little Thomas asleep in her arms. It was a heartwarming sight, but Merlin couldn’t help finding something strange about it. 

Oh, well, he supposed it didn’t matter. If it was important, Merlin could figure out what was missing once he returned home. 

“One day, Thomas will ride with us,” Arthur realised aloud a little ways into their journey. “Imagine that.”

Merlin could hear the proud grin in Arthur’s voice. It was a sweet sentiment, and Merlin couldn’t help but wonder how soon it would be before it happened. He had been going on these kinds of trips with his king for years, and it would be interesting to see the dynamic change after so long. 

Merlin watched silently as the men began their hunt. Until they were ready for dinner and to find a place to sleep for the night, hunting was a rather quiet and boring sport. It didn’t allow them to converse in order to not scare away the prey. For the moment he just had to observe. 

They walked through the grass silently, the knights’ eyes trained on the tree line. Merlin kept his eyes peeled too, although for different reasons. He hoped to spot some herbs to bring back for Gaius and his potions. 

Merlin’s eyes swept over the floor quickly before catching on something. He looked at closely, and with a gasp he finally recognized it.

_ Rosemary.  _

The past few weeks came back to Merlin in a rush, snapping back into place rather painfully. He gasped sharply.  _ None of this was real.  _

Immediately, the heads of all of the knights swivelled towards him, their eyes narrowed. They simply dropped their weapons and stared at him for a horrifyingly long moment. 

_ “Emrys,” _ they spoke in unison.  _ “You’ve awoken.” _

“What is wrong with all of you?” Arthur scowled, glancing between the men before looking back at Merlin in confusion. The knights ignored him and took a step towards Merlin threateningly. 

Merlin blanched. Where was he? What was  _ happening? _

“Don’t come any closer,” Merlin warned, holding his hand out in front of him. Most of his friends were dead. Whoever these men were, they were just impersonating them. He would hurt them if he had to. 

Without any further theatrics, the men sprung towards him. Merlin hastily attempted to cast a spell and became even more panicked when nothing happened. 

Right. It was a dream, so no magic. How does he get out?

Arthur began shouting at the knights in confusion while Merlin began running, the men hot on his trail. He forced himself to think about what to do while his feet pounded against the forest floor. 

The last thing Merlin remembered before waking up in Camelot was going to sleep in the cave. What could have trapped him in the dreamworld? Morgana, possibly, but Merlin didn’t think she would. Not after everything else. They were almost out of each other’s lives for good, and Merlin had been planning to leave her as soon as he woke. There wasn’t a good enough motive.

Merlin risked a glance over his shoulder. The men were still chasing after him with Arthur not far behind. It was strange that Arthur didn’t seem part of the hive mind, but perhaps only the knights were controlled by whatever had caused the dream. 

So what else was there? Caves could hold magic, he knew, and something about the cave they’d stayed in had felt strangely familiar, as if he’d been called to it. 

Merlin’s mind flashed back to a relatively simpler time and remembered something he’d read in a book of magic. Everything lined up.

_ The Cave of Cadence.  _

The rock formations matched those in the book, and Merlin had heard the cave calling out to him just like the other men who’d been trapped. So, the cave trapped people in dreamworlds, huh? How had the other men gotten out?

_ Death was the only escape.  _

When Merlin had first read that line, he assumed it had meant that death was the only escape from the madness and insanity caused by what had happened to them in the cave. With the new context, Merlin understood that they had meant to say that the only way out was to die in the dream. It was the only explanation that made sense. 

Merlin had to get away from the men in order to do it, though. He ducked under the brushes and began to zigzag before ducking under the cover of a rock wall. The men ran past and didn’t seem to notice him. 

Successfully having evaded them, Merlin left his cover behind and went in an altogether new direction where he knew a tall ravine was located. If all went to plan, well… 

He moved as quickly as he could, not eager to give the knights a chance to catch him. As he came upon the edge of the ravine, Merlin vaguely wondered where Arthur had gotten off to. 

It didn’t matter, he supposed. Arthur wasn’t real. None of this was. 

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Although he knew it wouldn’t hurt him, he couldn’t help but be nervous, but he didn’t have a choice. He stepped forward, felt the ground disappear from beneath him, and then-

His shoulder jerked roughly as something caught him by the hand and tried to pull him up. Merlin looked up and was shocked to find it was Arthur holding onto him with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Arthur,” Merlin began calmly. “You need to let go.”

“What the hell is happening, Merlin?” Arthur grit out, obviously uncomfortable supporting Merlin’s weight. “Give me your other hand, please. I’m not letting you fall.”

_ “Arthur,” _ Merlin pleaded again. “None of this is real. The knights? They’re not real. Thomas? He’s not real. What I’m about to do? It  _ isn’t real. _ I need to get out of here. Please,” he continued, trying to jerk his hand out of Arthur’s steel grip.

“What does that even  _ mean, _ Merlin?!” Arthur shouted. “I’m not just going to sit here and watch you die.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur.”

With one final tug, Merlin broke free of Arthur’s grip and plummeted toward the ground. His last sight was of Arthur reaching for him and desperately screaming his name. 


	10. Epilogue

ned and forced himself to sit up. 

“Wha… what happened?” Merlin grumbled. 

“You wouldn’t wake up for hours,” Morgana gritted out. “Just now you started having fits. What did you _ do? _ ”

The memories of the dreamworld washed over him. Merlin had been trapped, but due to remembering something he’d read about the Cave of Cadence he’d been able to escape. He remembered being… happy.

“We need to get out of here,” Merlin told her instead of answering her questions. “This cave is cursed.”

_ “C-cursed?” _ Morgana asked incredulously, but she rose to her feet nonetheless and went to rouse Aithusa before leading her out of the cave. Merlin followed them immediately. He didn’t want to spend another minute in that blasted cave. 

Merlin wanted to sleep for another year, but his desire to get home was stronger. He began to take stock of what was left to do. 

“Your back… it still needs treating. I won’t leave you out here if you’re hurt. We’ll travel together until we reach the nearest town, we’ll get you help, and then we’ll go our separate ways. We never have to see each other again,” Merlin explained. Morgana looked numb to the news and just nodded in reply. 

“What about Aithusa?”

“Once we reach the town she can choose who she wants to stay with. I won’t force her,” Merlin shrugged. He didn’t particularly care one way or the other. 

“Merlin?”

Merlin whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes wide. Arthur was before him on his hands and knees, openly sobbing. 

_ “Arthur?!” _ Morgana gasped, and it was only then that Merlin realised he wasn’t hallucinating. Arthur was really  _ there. _

“You were right, Merlin,” Arthur croaked out, burying his face in his hands. “It wasn’t real. The kingdom, my men, Thomas, none of it. So, I jumped too. I was in there for almost a year and I never realised.”

Merlin’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly a few times. He was largely still in shock, but if he was comprehending correctly, it meant that Arthur was  _ alive. _

“Emrys,” Morgana breathed sharply, “what did you  _ do?” _

“I- I don’t know,” Merlin stuttered, taking a step towards Arthur. “How did you even get trapped in the cave?”

Arthur looked lost. “I remember… dying in your arms. I thought I died, but then… someone was carrying me. Next thing I know, I’m in there and you’re screaming at me that nothing is real. I don’t understand it.”

“We’ll… we’ll get you back to Gaius. He’ll make sense of it, I promise,” Merlin assured. Not only that, but Gaius would be able to tell him if this was the real Arthur or not. He hoped it was real.

Even though they were barely able to support themselves, they helped Arthur to his feet and began their journey. They went in the direction of Camelot, intending to stop at the first village they came across. The walk was spent in stupefied silence. 

When they finally spotted the first village, they paused before walking further inside. Morgana turned to Merlin first. 

“You said magic was made legal in Camelot?” Morgana asked. Arthur’s eyes widened, but he wisely chose to remain silent. 

Merlin nodded. “It was. I was made court sorcerer not long before I left.”

Morgana nodded once, acknowledging his answer. Then, she turned to Arthur. 

“Do you intend to keep these laws in place once you return home? Make sure no harm comes to my people?” She questioned. 

Arthur paused a moment, looking between the two of them in surprise before settling on Morgana. He gave her a nod. “I will.”

Morgana looked satisfied. “I make no apologies for the actions I took to free my people, but you have always been a man of your word. If you say you will, then you will. Goodbye Arthur, Emrys. I doubt we will meet again,” she bid them farewell before turning on her heel and walking into the village. 

“Aithusa?” Merlin prompted. 

Aithusa looked up at him, over to Morgana, then back at Merlin. He could see the dragon had made up her mind.

Merlin sighed but accepted it. “Goodbye, Aithusa. Be well,” he bid in the dragon tongue. She gave him one final fond croak before turning to follow Morgana. Merlin watched them go. 

“It looks like it’s just you and me, sire,” Merlin tried to joke as he turned to his king, but Arthur was too busy watching Morgana with sad eyes to notice. 

“Let’s go home, Merlin,” he finally said. 

The walk home was a tedious one which took many days, but it was made a bit easier when they managed to acquire horses along the way. Upon arriving in Camelot, they were greeted immediately by a weeping Gwen, cradling a baby boy in her arms. She’d called him Arthur, she told them. By then, Arthur was crying too. 

Gaius was quick to usher them out of the public eye, leading Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, and the baby to his chambers. Gwen refused to be parted from their sides. 

They regaled Gaius with the tales of what had happened in the months they’d been gone, and in return the physician helped fill in the blanks of the story. 

“I believe the Sidhe healed Arthur as you originally intended, Merlin,” Gaius said. Merlin could feel his blood beginning to boil at the uncovery of the deceit, but Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him down. “They would have trapped him in the Cave of Cadence to keep him alive and use as they saw fit. This is where the Harbinger comes into play as well. The Sidhe must have summoned it to get you out of the way so they could use Arthur without your interference.”

Relating to the strange visions Merlin had been experiencing, Arthur confirmed he’d been having them too. Gaius guessed it was likely magic connecting them between worlds in their sleep, and those conversations had actually been happening. 

It felt like everything was wrapped up too nicely, and Merlin didn’t understand what to do. He’d been consumed by a singular purpose (Arthur, it was always Arthur) for ten years. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to become without it. 

“What comes next?” Merlin finally asked aloud. Arthur turned to look at him. 

“We make right our wrongs,” Arthur began tentatively. “We strive to make this kingdom a home for the many, regardless of belief or power. Most importantly… we hold onto those we love, and we never let go.”

At the answer, Merlin dove forward and pulled his king into a hug. Strengthened by the warm embrace, he began to believe that maybe they really would be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoyed this story. 
> 
> I’m a mod on a multifandom discord server and I’d like to extend an invitation to all of you, my readers. If you’re looking for a place to talk about your favorite fandoms, participate in productivity sprints and book club, promote your own works, and be a part of an all around lovely community, [click here!](https://discord.gg/GtE7UvS) We’d love to have you!


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